Anything but Ordinary
by Beta Genius
Summary: When you stand in your sheltered realm, how far will you go when the one you so secretly cared for falls before your most hated enemy? chp. 10 up. LAST CHAPTER! pretty please R&R LAST CHAP! It really is a good end, and it's a happy too! C vs S!
1. Default Chapter

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Anything but Ordinary

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Sequel to 'Key to Angles' Hearts' 

A Hated Life

They were there, posted like very other half there had been. The dreaded grades to some, the ranking of everyone in school. There were grumbles as there always was in the front, people up there looking back to find just one person. As others looked, they stared back as well, their eyes narrow in question and in anger that they had not gotten the highest grade and rank. Because it was always the same person, for as long as she had been in the schools. There was just no question, not even to the smartest 'normal' kids.

She was _always_ the smartest.

They saw her walking down the halls, everything going silent, but she just walked on, ignoring their angry quietness. She didn't care what they thought. She never did. Her intelligence was much to high for such beings to fuss over, as he father put it, and no matter what they said, she would do nothing in return. Her mother always said never to start fights because of this, but if one ever did break out, to always finish it with the most dramatic leaving.

She went to her locker, people making way, as she opened it as usual, getting out her backpack and putting her books inside. But before she could get the last one, it suddenly shut, a hand over it, as she sighed in annoyance. She heard a voice to her side, one who had been most torturous to her anger, and the one reason of thinking of starting a fight.

"Say, freak, leaving so soon?" he questioned, grinning. He was the best jock in the school, which only matched his dumbness.

She looked up at him, her pale green eyes trying to stare into his very soul. But unfortunately she couldn't do it. She never could, no matter how much she wanted to. They just ignored it and sneered continuously, rolling her eyes and going back to her locker.

They called her freak, even though they didn't know her real secret. She had been allowed to wear a coat in school by a note from her mother every year, and even the teachers didn't know why. They probably just called her that because of her intelligence...and probably because of her hair. So what if it was silver? It was like her father's, just like her eyes, and it was better than any of these blobs of puke on their heads, in her opinion. But either way, in never backed away, and so she remained, hated by everyone.

"What, no comeback today? No 'shut ups'?" he questioned, as she grabbed her last book and held in in her arms, shutting the locker again.

She looked at him, her eyes angry. "When your insinuations mean something then I'll take them seriously," she shot back, turning and walking away as they made stupid remarks.

She turned the corner, beginning to walk home. Everyday when she would walk home she would say she hated that school, she wanted out. No one liked her, she didn't have any friends, not even the teachers liked her that much. She thought that they might think of her as making them look inferior. It was not her fault, she just liked to read a lot, her parents telling her the history of what had been before they came here. She just wondered where they had come from, and wondered if it would be better there. But, there was no other place but here, for their was only one of these academies, and she would have to deal with it...whether she liked it or not.

As she got home, she opened the door to their small, two story cabin, finding her mother in the other room sitting next to the fire, sewing up her father's jacket as she usually did. Her mother smiled, but she did not such thing, walking up the stairs.

"How was your day?" her mother asked.

"Fine, mother," she answered in a monotone, continuing on.

Her father walked down, stopping as she past him without looking up from the steps. He blinked, remembering what today was. "Did you get first?"

"Yes, father, as always," she replied in the same matter, opening the door to her room and shutting it behind. Her father only smirked, nodding his head and walking on.

She threw her backpack to the wall, going to her bed and flopping her back onto it. She sighed, throwing off her shoes and unbuttoning her coat, sitting up and putting it on the chair. She stretched her arms out, her wings spreading finally from being crammed for eight hours. Both feathered, but one black, like her father's, and one white, like her mother's. She lived with it for seventeen years, and yet no one knew about it. Strange, but it was just the way things went.

She turned on her side, shutting her eyes and sighing once more. She didn't have any homework, so she could just sleep it off. But today was only Monday--she had another four days to go of this torture until she could finally get a break. Life was terrible here, and even though she had to face it, she couldn't stand it. But at least she had something to look forward to. So, she just kept on thinking that it was just four more days...

Just four more...

***

Her eyes came open as she realized it was brighter out, a bird tweeting in the window. She heard a shout from downstairs, sounding like her mother, as she now understood it was morning. The voice became clear as it came through the door, shaking her awake.

"Nevaeh, you're going to be late! Get up!" her mother said, handing her the coat.

She sat up, blinking and taking it quickly, looking at her clock. Her eyes widened as she saw what time it was, and grabbed her backpack in a hurry, barely slipping her shoes on before she ran out the door. She ran as fast as she could down the path, gazing at her watch and seeing the time now. She didn't have time for this, especially when she was miles away from the city, let alone her school. With it, she stopped, getting her coat off and tying it around her waist. She held out her arms, her wings spreading wide, as she took off into the sky, faster than anything could ever run.

When she finally saw the city in her sights, she made sure she stayed in the area of the smog so no one could see her. She finally landed on the roof of the school, around the corner where no one was. She put her coat back on, running past the smokers who were out there regularly before school and into the door, sliding down the railing for the easiest way. Nevaeh ran in the halls before her professor shut the door to the classroom, taking her seat like the rest of the students. (Well...sort of like the students. They just stood by theirs until the last second).

When the bell rang, the professor clapped his hands, standing up and everyone sitting. He started out with a grinned, shrugging. "Today we have a new student, class, that could pull your sorry average out of the crapper, besides for the fact you have Nevaeh in your class. Everyone, I'd like you to meet Lance. Come on in here."

A boy, with slightly spiky auburn hair, walked in, wearing a pair of black, baggy jeans and a dark blue t-shirt, along with a black trench coat. Nevaeh almost laughed when she saw all the cheerleaders in the class almost drool over, the jocks getting a bit jealous. He just smirked, shrugging in embarrassment with this intro. The professor just scanned the area, looking for an empty seat for him to sit in. He saw one, and pointed up to it.

"Alright then, Lance, you can take your seat next to Nevaeh. Maybe some of her smartness will rub off on you, unlike the rest of this class."

Everyone seemed to snicker, as if finding it a burn that he was placed next to her. But he paid no mind, not exactly knowing why they were doing this but climbed the stair and set his backpack to his side as he sat. The professor said to quietly talk as he punched in Lance's new assigned seat into the computer, no one exactly talking quietly after.

Nevaeh diverted her eyes from where he looked over to her slightly, wonder in his eyes. This lasted only momentarily, however, when she suddenly turned her head, her pale green eyes meeting his sky blue ones.

"What? Just spit it out," she commanded, Lance blinking in surprise when she just shouted that out all of the sudden.

"Uh...n-nothing..." he said, looking back and getting his math books out onto his desk. She just continued to stare until he finally said it, "Alright, maybe. I was just wondering...uh, is that your natural hair color or is there some sort of dye out there you used?"

"No. It's real. Why, you have a problem with that?" she questioned.

"No! It's just...odd...I've never seen anything like it before," he stated.

"Yeah well, it isn't the greatest thing to have."

"Why?" he asked, Nevaeh soon looking away.

"You'll soon learn that everyone around here calls me a freak, so I guess if you give one cent about your social life you might want to stop talking to me."

With that he remained silent, turning back forward as the professor stood again. He took something at the chalk board and began to write an equation. It took up about half the board, and everyone soon sat dumbfounded, not understanding one bit of it.

"Alright, now, can anyone answer this problem?" he asked, holding the chalk out. No one dared to raise their hand.

Lance looked to Nevaeh, hearing her sigh and saw her roll her eyes. He leaned over, beginning to whisper. "You know the answer?"

"Of course, but I have been asked not to. Seems that they want the less 'gifted' people to get it."

"Lance, is there something you want to share with the class?" the professor said, catching him.

"Oh, umm..." he began, leaning back in his chair.

"Why don't you come solve this for us if you have so much to say?" he proclaimed, Lance knowing he had no way out.

He looked quickly to Nevaeh, who waved a hand to go up there to get out of trouble. Lance shrugged, standing up. "Yeah, sure." He walked down the stairs and took the chalk from his hands, just staring for a few moments before he began. "Let's see. One-hundred divided by two, parentheses, times one point five minus two-fourths, parentheses, which is fifty, times again thirteen over six point five all squared, equals..." he squinted his eyes, trying to think of the answer, when he finally wrote it out. "One point four one four two three five six two." He stared back to the professor, smirking when he stood shocked. He stood back to the class, seeing all of their eyes wide in the same manner, even Nevaeh's.

Suddenly, a girl shouted out, "Cool..." and the rest joined in.

"Yeah, go new guy!" he heard one of them say as he climbed the steps, taking his seat.

Lance only grinned, speaking over to Nevaeh. "I guess it pays to be smart huh?"

"How would you know?" she retorted, beginning to slouch in her seat and shaking her head.

As the hour went on very, very, _very_ slowly, the bell finally rang, and everyone jumped from their seats and ran out the door before the professor could give homework. Nevaeh even did so, not wanting to talk to that cocky new kid again for the rest of that day. But as she read her new elective and stopped in the hall, she actually wasn't surprised when someone knocked her books out of her hands, grumbling in annoyance as she reached to pick them up. But as she looked down, she saw someone stand up, rolling her eyes and Lance handed her the books.

"Here," he said, Nevaeh forcefully taking them away.

"Thanks," she said, beginning to walk. He only followed, soon continuing.

"Say, what's your elective?"

"Fencing," she answered, not looking back to him.

"Really? So is mine!"

She stopped, facing him slowly with narrow slits for eyes. "You're kidding?" she inquired.

"No, I'm not," he replied, Nevaeh sighing and walking quickly on her way.

"So I have you in two classes for at least the next ten weeks..." she mumbled.

"Yeah, I guess so!"

'_Great_...' she thought, turning the corner to the gym where the fencing would take place.

Soon enough they all stood there like a line of white pincushions, clear helmets to let them see but able to protect them. Most of the guys complained, and the only one who did was the only _girl_ in the class. Either that or the instructor, who was also a lady. No girl really liked fencing, but everyone just figured that she just got placed here, though they wouldn't exactly say it. First they would start on training, for everyone there had taken a class before sometime in their life. It was school policy. But everyone wasn't quite sure about the new guy, if he had taken any classes, so instead they took a quick five minutes to test.

"Okay, kid, let's just see how good those skills are of yours. Any volunteers?"

"I'll go," Nevaeh volunteered, everyone stepping back. If it was one thing, they new she could fight with a sword, and they just wanted to see Lance get creamed.

"Alright, you teach him a few moves, Nevaeh. Just take it easy on the guy, 'kay?" the instructor said, stepping back off the mat.

"Sure thing," she replied, a menacing look in her eyes.

Lance stepped up, smirking under his helmet. He flipped the sword in his hand, as if he had done this before, when she charged forward, striking down. Lance deflected, throwing her sword away and striking forth. She flipped back, dodging back and landing on one knee, standing and reaching forward, barely missing his center point. But as he backed up, she put a foot under his ankle, making him trip and fall back. She put the sword up to his neck, the others snickering slightly to his loss. When she took the sword away and held out a hand to help him up, however, he took it alright, but pulled her down, reversing the situation and putting a sword to her neck, nodding his head.

"Rule number one, never let your guard down," he said, grinning and standing up. The others applauded, even the instructor slightly, as he tried helped her up.

She slapped his hand away, though, standing up on her own two feet. She walked away, picking up the sword as he shrugged, turning to take his place in line. But before the instructor could continue with her teachings, Nevaeh took the sword in her hand and broke the metal in half, becoming a razor sharp end.

"Lance," she said, Lance turning back to face her. She suddenly snapped back, stretching her arm and unleashing the sword towards him. They all stood in terror as it stuck an inch from the center of his forehead in the glass, Lance standing frozen in fright. "Let that be a warning," is all she said, dropping the other half and storming out, slamming the door behind her.

The room just stood there, stunned, as the instructor called for the rest of the class off, to just shake off this. But Lance could do anything but shake it off, and only wonder why. Why would she do such a thing? For it was only a training match...

Right?

At lunch time, he would set it all straight. After he got his lunch and searched through the large, cathedral-ceiling room, (that was probably bigger than anything else in this school), he finally found Nevaeh, sitting by herself at a window seat. She wasn't eating anything, but just reading a book, so he thought this might be the best time to talk to her. He sat down next to her, Nevaeh not taking her nose out of the pages, and not seeming to know he was there.

"What're you reading?" he asked, Nevaeh jumped and shouting in surprise.

"Don't _do_ that!" she said, shaking her head.

"Sorry! Just, seriously, what are you reading?"

"Why are you here?" she asked, getting to the point.

"Oh uh...I just wanted to know why you did that earlier. You know, throw the sword into my helmet face?"

"That...Ah jeez, I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "Really, I am. I just lost my temper. See, I've always tried to be the best...as to not disappoint-"

"You're parents, yeah I'm the same way. That's exactly why I'm in this school, because my father was in it once."

"Really? So was mine! He was the best in his class, so, as always, I...have..." she drifted off in sad thought, Lance seeing this.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Well...That's also why people call me a freak...because I'm so smart. I do my best because I have too, that's why they brought me into this school. The only problem is...everyone hates me for it..."

"Huh...So why don't they hate me?" he inquired.

"Don't know. Maybe because you're the new guy. Everyone likes the new guy."

He laughed. "I'm sure they do..."

"I hear sarcasm in your voice," she stated.

"Yeah, because there is. I came here not just because my father came here...but because..." he chuckled half-heartedly. "Nah, it's nothing."

"What? No, what is it? Why did you come here?"

"I...kinda got kicked out...'cuz I started too many fights..."

She smiled. "Seriously? Because you started too many fights?"

He nodded. "Yeah...I know it isn't the greatest thing...But those darn jocks were getting on my nerves!"

She then started to laugh. "Then you'll be perfect here! They've been looking for fighters for a while now!"

"Maybe this isn't such a bad school after all then."

With that, the bell rang, and the next class would start. Nevaeh stood up, closing her book. Lance held out his hand, though, Nevaeh just staring at it for a moment. She didn't understand what he was doing until he explained.

"Umm, nice to meet you Nevaeh. Guess I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

That was when she took it, shaking it with a half smile. "Yeah, see you tomorrow."

The day soon continued on until the last hours, where Nevaeh quickly rushed home, running in through the door and kicking off her shoes, her mother in the front room.

"Hello, Nevaeh. How was your day?"

"Great!" she answered, running up the stairs.

"Why was it so great?" her father questioned, sitting in his chair.

"I met a guy!" she replied, shutting the door to her room.

He looked over from where he was reading the newspaper, looking at his wife. She looked up from her sewing, noticing he was staring. She smiled as he spoke.

"A guy? You mean they didn't have guys there before?"

She laughed. "No, she meant she met a guy who likes to talk to her."

"Oh," he replied, lifting the newspaper back up. He suddenly brought it back down, realizing something. "_Oh_." He said, looking over his shoulder to the stairs. But he shrugged, turning back. "She just better stick to her studies is all I have to say."

Nevaeh's mother shook her head, smiling as she continued with her sewing.

Nevaeh set her things down like always, sitting back. She just looked up at the ceiling, imagining over again the conversation she had earlier. She really never spoke to another person besides for her parents, and it felt...nice. She sat back up, going to her closet. Maybe she should wear something nice tomorrow? Surprise everyone? She raised an eyebrow though, not realizing before then that everything she had was black and dark colors. But she shrugged, getting out the one dress she owned that was a dark blue and standing in front of the mirror. But she couldn't really see with her coat on, so she placed it on the chair, looking back up and now remembering her wings.

She sighed, throwing the dress back into the closet. She didn't know why she owned the thing, so she thought she stick to her usual dark blue sweater, black long skirt, and blue jeans underneath. Why would she ever think of dressing up anyway? It was a stupid notion anyway.

Again she had no homework, (she usually didn't, because this school was more on training than academics), so, once again, she laid on her side, a sad sigh coming from her throat, as she shut her eyes, falling asleep a time after.


	2. Days Go By

Days Go By

The days continued on in such a way, Lance coming over to talk to her every lunch time, (and scaring her every time). Sometimes during classes he would mingle with the other guys, which wasn't too surprising, but what surprised her was that he still came over, at the same time, same place, to talk to her. It wasn't really important speech, just about things in school, about the book she was reading, nothing much. But it did mean something to her. A friend, as he said, and the only one who talked sensibly here. It made her feel good that someone thought that. She thought that everything was going for the better...

Until Friday after school came.

She was walking home, as she usually did, but slower as to admirer the scenery. What she ignored, however, was what would bring an end to just be called a freak...but bringing truth to it. For a few jocks that had grown tired of her hanging around Lance decided to seek revenge.

When she was walking, they suddenly came up from behind, grabbing her backpack and coat and tugging at her hair forcefully. They asked stupid questions like, "Is it real?" and "What do you think is in this thing she carries around?" She tried to get away, two of them pulling at her jacket even more and the buttons beginning to rip. One of them scratched the side of her face, making it bleed, as the fabric finally gave way, making her fall to her knees.

There was a long, stunned silence, as she rose, turning to face them slowly. Her eyes were angry, glowing in the dim sunlight escaping the trees rasp overhead. They backed away, her eyes once and for all giving the effect that they did stare into their souls, and _past_ it.

"You...really are a freak!" one of them breathed, unbelieving of what he saw.

Nevaeh's eyes remained stern, standing tall and about to step forward, when she looked to the side, her eyes turning sad. She only thought it was these punks, but to the side she saw her only friend, terror and shock in his eyes. She backed away, picking up her jacket and feeling ashamed, as she ran the rest of the way home, not wanting to look back.

The others just laughed, beginning to walk back to the school. The leader was in front, holding the backpack, as Lance stepped forth, his eyes narrow. They were about to greet him when suddenly he unleashed a punch into the leaders face, breaking his nose and sending blood to spew all over. He grabbed the backpack, throwing it over his shoulder and walking on. They just stared after him in wonder and he began to run, chasing after her.

When she got home, she tried to dry the tears from her eyes. As she entered, her father just happened to be standing there, soon seeing her distress and putting a hand under her chin, turning her head to see the large gash on the side of her head.

"Who did this?" he questioned, his voice agitated.

"Umm...no one. I fell," she answered simply, looking over to the kitchen door. "Mother, do you think you could fix my coat? I snagged it and ripped it when I fell and got this scrape."

"Sure thing, sweetie, just set it there and I'll get it later."

She set the coat down and ran up the stairs, ears beginning to fall from her eyes as she slammed the door shut behind her. Her father blinked, confused in a way, and looked to his wife, wondering if she new. She just smiled, shaking her head to her husband.

"Don't even try to understand, my dear Sephiroth. It'll only end in tragedy!"

"Hmm? Is it some sort of girl thing?" he asked, his wife laughing.

"Sort of. Just leave her to her peace, alright?"

He paused, soon shaking his head. "It is one thing I will never understand, Kerah, and that is our daughter."

Nevaeh put her head down on her bed, beginning to cry. She had blew it in a matter of days. A mere week, and just when it was leading to the weekend. She thought about telling her father about those who had caused this, but then again they didn't deserve that much treatment. Besides, if she really was that much of an outcast, she wouldn't want the reputation of her father being a murderer of the schools prized athletes. She would be kicked out for sure. She would go on wearing the coat, even though everyone would soon know about it. She'd rather look normal, and not be tormented even more. But, it didn't matter. She had lost her only friend by being the freak she was, and that was the end.

But outside, Lance approached this small, middle-of-nowhere cabin, getting a little creped out by it. The large trees loomed above, blocking out most of the light. The house was crawling with ivy, smoke coming from the smokestack to the side. He swallowed hard, stepping towards it. He knocked on the door, the handle creaking as it opened. He stood in fear, a tall, lean man standing over him, his eyes blinking in surprise. They narrowed, however, as he saw the backpack in his hands, looking like Nevaeh's.

"Yes?" the man's voice boomed, his dark wear blending into the outside surroundings.

"Uh...t-this Nevaeh's h-house?" he stuttered in fright.

"Yes it is," he stated, leaning forward threateningly. "Who are you?"

"I-I, uh, umm..." he couldn't quite get it out, Sephiroth filling in.

"Is this Nevaeh's backpack?" he finally inquired.

"Yeah, it is," he said, letting his hands slip and Sephiroth take it.

"Well, thank you for returning it," he said. "Now tell me, do you know who did that to her?"

"Oh, the jocks. Yeah, the four highest ranking, actually. Why?"

Sephiroth grinned, patter the boy on the shoulder. "You're a good kid." His eyes appeared stricken again. "Now, get off my property!" With that, the door slammed in his face.

He heard a few voices inside and before he could head on his way the door opened again. A lady with perfectly white hair and violet eyes emerged, wearing a green dress with leggings underneath and dark blue slippers, along with a robe. She smiled, shrugging.

"Forgive my husband. I'm afraid he doesn't like trespassers, whether they are or not. Please, come in."

He did what she suggested, stepping in and away from the dreary environment. Instead, it was something completely different. The walls were all an oak color, the carpet a soft gray color. Chair were placed close to the fire in the other room and stairs leading up.

"You're here to see Nevaeh? Say, are you that Lance fellow she spoke about?"

"Yeah I am. Why do you ask?"

"Oh, I've heard many good things about you. Supposedly you're as smart as she is."

"I guess you could say that..." he said, rubbing the back of his head. They both looked in the other direction, however, when Sephiroth grabbed his coat, flicking his hair back and opening the door.

"You're leaving?" she asked.

"Just going to take a breather," he said, obviously fibbing to keep her calm. But she knew where he was going, and only shook her head, sighing.

"He'll never give that act up. Oh well." She motioned up the stairs, smiling. "She just up there. In the room all the way down the hall."

"Um, thanks," he said, heading up here.

He walked up the rickety old steps, stepping down the hall. He heard sobbing from the room he was heading to, knowing it could only be her. His hand fell on the door handle, opening it slowly. He looked in, seeing her kneeing next to her bed, her head in her arms. She wiped them away when she looked up, presumably thinking it was her mother or father. But as she looked, she turned quickly away, looking up to her window.

"What do you want?" she asked softly.

"I just came over to bring your backpack back," he replied, stepping in and shutting the door.

She laughed half-heatedly. "Yeah, I know. I heard my father from downstairs. But why are you really here, besides for the fact that my mother asked you in."

"I was actually wondering...well, why else?"

"About my wings, right? Just probably didn't see my mother or father's did you?"

"No, I didn't notice. Do they have two too?"

"My mother has two white wings. My father has one black, and that's why I have one of each."

"Oh..." He chuckled slightly. "It's actually kind of funny."

"What, that I have wings?" she spat, putting her back to her bed.

"No! it's just that...I didn't think anyone else had wings."

She looked with question to him, wondering what he meant. He only grinned.

"See, my father has a wing too. And I guess...Well, here."

He reached for the sleeves of his coat, pulling it off. He stretched his arm to his side, something that would send her into shock being revealed. He rubbed the back of his head, shrugging. But attached to his back, spreading a black patch into the room...

Was one leathery wing...

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A/N I know, a long chapter, But it gets most of the boring stuff over with and leads of to A LOT! So, please-PLEASE review, and stay tuned for the next (hopefully somewhat shorter) chapters!


	3. Acsension

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Ascension

She just stared, blinking in question. Seeing her hesitation, he picked his coat back up, folding his wing up and putting it back on. She stood, walking over to him with dried tears on her face. She shook her head slowly, not believing what she saw.

"This has to be a dream...There was no one, _no_ one like me. And now, you appear all of the sudden...It can't be real!" Her knees got weak, about to fall, when suddenly he caught her, smiling.

"It's real. The only question is...are you? I never knew there was another out there, and I don't think mom or dad did either. I hid it my whole life, wearing that coat or anything I could find. I thought for the longest time that I was a freak of nature, that it was just a mutated gene my father possessed. But now that I found you, I don't see that anymore. Somehow I feel...normal, like you."

He stood her back on her own two feet, coughing slightly in embarrassment that he had just said that. He turned, pointing to the door and saying quietly that he should probably be going. She just stood there stunned as her mother came in, staring off after him and then turning to Nevaeh, walking over.

"So? What did he say?" she asked.

"Nothing..." she said, shaking her head. She smiled, looking to her. "But he has a wing!"

"What?!" she questioned as Nevaeh ran to her window, opening it and breaking the ivy strands that covered bits of it.

She searched the area until he came into view, shouting out, "Hey Lance!"

He quickly looked back, responding, "Yeah?"

"Never leave that school! You're the only defense I have against those 'unusual' people!"

He grinned, nodding his head. "Sure thing! I'm not going anywhere!" With that, he ran into the surrounding darkness.

Nevaeh closed her window, sitting on her bed and smiling as her mother stood there, wringing her hands. She could see her nervousness and stopped smiling, her face turning to question. She stood up, walking over when her mother began to speak again.

"Oh this is not good..." she said.

"What isn't?" Nevaeh asked.

"Well see...we know..." She hesitated, letting her hands go and smiling once more. "No worries. It's all right. So long as you don't tell your father."

Nevaeh raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Never mind, Nevaeh. Just, whatever you do, don't tell him that your friend has a wing?"

"Why not?! Isn't that a good thing?" she asked.

"Yes...and no...But like I said, don't worry about it! I'll break it to him, less stress for you!"

They both heard the door creak open from downstairs, knowing it could only be Sephiroth. Kerah reminded her once more before turning to walk down, Nevaeh following. As they came walking down the steps, Kerah suddenly stopped, seeing the light reflect from the fireplace and onto Sephiroth. Nevaeh looked over her mother's shoulder, seeing what he was holding in his hand, and covered her mouth, feeling like she was going to be sick.

For it wasn't everyday he had a bloodied saber in his hand.

Tears weld in her eyes again, running as fast as she could back up the steps and into her room. Sephiroth just stared, Kerah's eyes narrowing in anger as he shrugged.

"What's the matter with her?" he asked, confused by it. Kerah just walked up to him, grabbing his hand and holding it up.

"What is this? I thought you said you weren't going to do this anymore!" she yelled, shaking her head.

"So? The deed was needed to be done," he replied, carrying it back to the bathroom to wash it off.

"Who was it, Sephiroth?" she questioned, following him.

"Hmm...Well, after looking it up in that school's database I found the four top players and when they happened to be wandering home..."

"I thought we agreed just to teach them a lesson, not kill them!" she shouted.

"Who said I killed them?" he said, Kerah calming down.

"You mean you didn't?"

"Of course not! I gave that up a long time ago, Kerah. Now, losing a limb..."

"Sephiroth..." she began to scold, Sephiroth laughing.

"Kidding! I just gave them a cut on their faces and told them to leave Nevaeh alone from now on. And believe me, they'll do it if they know what's good for them."

Kerah sighed in relief, Sephiroth raising an eyebrow in question. He looked up, wiping the sword clean with a towel, and stared. She shrugged, knowing she was thinking something different.

"Nevaeh...thought you killed one of her friends."

He shook his head, walking past. "Why would she think that?"

She hesitated, walking as he went to the closet under the stair, putting the sword there. He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall and waiting for an answer. She sighed again, tilting her head. "Her friend, Lance...he...has a wing."

The house shook as he shouted in anger, knowing only one other person who had such a thing. His worst enemy, the one who had mocked him the last time they had met in the City of the Ancients, and the one, the _only_ one, he had searched to kill. And now, to hear he had a son, and his very daughter was friends with him...His blood boiled, floating quickly into the air and to the top floor, slamming her door open. She looked to the door in shock, Sephiroth coming forward.

"How dare you make friends with the enemy! Daughter, do you have any idea what this could mean?! It jeopardizes this family, _you_ included!"

"Sephiroth!" Kerah yelled. "She doesn't know! She doesn't know anything about it...She thinks...that he's just another kid like her."

Sephiroth stepped back, pausing in thought. He shook his head, putting a hand on his forehead. "No, I didn't kill him, Nevaeh. But does he really mean that much to you as a friend?"

She nodded without pause, beginning to smile in realizing that it wasn't him. But if it hadn't been, who was it? Then again, who _cared_? So long as it hadn't been Lance.

"Very well," he agreed, walking away. "I'll keep him alive...for now."

As he walked out, her held up and a-okay sign with her fingers, quietly shutting the door. Nevaeh jumped up in excitement, happy now. She had nothing to worry about, just until her father went psycho. She grinned at the thought, knowing that since her father was the most disciplined person she knew, he would never do such a thing. So, virtually, she had _nothing_ to worry about for now.

And she had nothing to worry about for most of the rest of the school year. It was a few months until school was out, and over those past months, though they had both didn't see it, they became closer...and closer...and closer. Those jocks from before hadn't said a word to her, and every time she approached them, they'd slide away in fear. She actually found it funny, beginning to run after them after school and chase them to the bus stop, screaming in fear. She couldn't understand why, and neither could Lance, but both found it hilarious. They both continued to wear their coats, keeping their wings under wraps. Also, even though Lance lived a short distance from the school, every Friday he'd usually get sidetracked talking to her and walk her home. Life seemed to get better, all to the point of never letting it go. Then again, there was another year in front of them, so they had nothing to fright. 

But if only everything would go as people hoped...

At the last dance of the year, Nevaeh always stayed home, feeling shallow in some point. She didn't expect Lance to ask, for she was sure some preppie girl had asked him out several months ago, and decided to just go straight home from there. The day got darker fast, the mists rolling in around her home earlier than usual, but she did not mind. She was used to it, after all.

When she did get home, as she always did, she went straight to her room, sighing as she got there. She sat back on her bed, imagining how it was there, how everyone must've been so happy. For the longest time she daydreamed, staring up at her ceiling with her pale green eyes. She thought she could hear her heartbeat, tapping in the silence of the still room. But it was off rhythm, turning more into a high-pitched sound and soon coming from her side. She sat up seeing another rock pound against the glass. Nevaeh opened it, looking out to the ground, and seeing the one person she had wanted to see stalling to throw another rock and drop it. He was surprisingly wearing his uniform, which he had never worn before.

"Hey, Nevaeh!" Lance said.

"Lance? What are you doing here?"

"I tried looking you up in the phone book but your number wasn't there."

She laughed. "That's because we don't _have_ a phone!"

"Oh..." he said, shaking it off and continuing. "Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the dance with me!"

He life suddenly brightened, nodding her head. "Sure! I'll go!"

She was about to close the window again when he suddenly said, "Don't wear your coat!"

She stared at him with question for a moment, then shrugged, nodding. She shut the window, jumping from her bed and leaping for joy, quickly going over to her closet and opening the door, looking through for that one dress. She found it, without a doubt, and looked at it as it sparkled in the lamplight. How she now wanted to wear this dress, and she really didn't care what people thought. She'd wear it, end of story.

Downstairs, a knocking came on the entrance door, Sephiroth going to open it. He narrowed his eyes in calm anger as he saw it was Lance, nodding his head.

"Good evening, sir. Is your daughter home?" he asked.

Sephiroth just shook his head, stepping aside. "You can cut the cute act, kid. We already heard out daughter's excitement from upstairs, and you're probably going to take her somewhere right?"

Lance stepped in, continuing. "Yeah, with your permission, of course."

Sephiroth scowled under his breath, Kerah coming over when she heard his voice. "You have bravery coming out here, Lance. You have our permission, so long as she's back by ten. But where are you two going?"

"The school dance, and don't worry, she'll be back!"

Sephiroth looked for the wing on his back, seeing it and undoubtedly knowing he was the son of Cloud. He tried to stay away from the subject, knowing his wife would disagree on it.

"So, what kind of uniform is that? I don't remember such things when I was in school."

"This? New issue. They kind of forced everyone to buy these things for ceremonial occasions, guys at least, but any other time people ignore it."

"Why did they enforce it at all?" he questioned.

"Seeing how everyone would try to pull something funny, I guess. I don't really know."

The steps creaked and they twisted around, seeing her walking down the steps. She smiled, seeing him standing there, a look of almost shock on his face. She continued to walk, standing in front of them all and continuing to smile.

"He tell you?"

"That you're going to a dance? Why yes! It's about time you got out of this rickety old house for once!" her mother said, scooting her along. Lance opened the door, Nevaeh walking out and waving goodbye, when her mother quickly said, "Have a good time! And be back by ten or I'll send your father after you!"

"Alright, mother! Bye!" With that, the door shut behind, Lance and Nevaeh off to the dance.

They got there by running. Nevaeh couldn't wait, so she offered a race to him, and he accepted. It wasn't really a competition, but either way they got there quickly, coming up to the school doors. It was the entrance to the cafeteria, where this dance was taking place. Nevaeh became nervous, not really wanting to go in. But Lance suddenly took her hand, putting her arm around his, and shrugged, opening the door to step in.

As they did, it was surprising to see someone was late, and everyone stopped when they saw whom it was. Also what they looked like. Nevaeh they weren't too surprised, but now to see Lance with a wing...it was utterly shocking. But he shrugged, leading her out onto the dance floor as others cleared out. As with the traditional way, they danced to a slow beat song, Nevaeh beginning to laugh.

"You know everyone's staring at us, don't you?" she said in the corner of her mouth.

"Let them stare," he whispered, twirling her around. Things began to mellow out, others beginning to carry on as well, until everyone did. A few more songs were liable to come on, and when the very last they would hear did, he continued. "But you know why they stared?"

"Because I look like a monster?" she joked.

He smiled, dipping her one last time. "Because of how beautiful you are." She stared, stunned by what he said, when he brought her back up. He leaned forward, Nevaeh shutting her eyes when she was about to get her first kiss. But as he came a breath away, she stood back, feeling a force on her heart. "Nevaeh, what is it?"

"I don't know," she shook her head. "Probably nothing." But there it was again, like a gripping on her heart.

She swallowed, stumbling back. He said something else, but she could not hear for the buzzing sound soon coming to her. She fell to her knees, gasping for air as she saw others around stop, gazing to her. With it, she heard an earsplitting screech, gargled out into nothing as the room suddenly broke into panic. Lance quickly reached down, trying to get her to her feet, but he jolted back, holding his left hand in pain. She even saw it as it began to turn black, morphing into something else...something worse. His fingers grew bronze colored claws, turning a pitch-black. He just stared in horror for a moment, looking back to Nevaeh as he saw what had caused this.

Something creped up underneath her, a black portal forming. A dark essence came up, wrapping around her. Though she tried to get away, she could not move. Something was locked on her heart, as if frozen in time itself. Only when the portal began to pull her under did she react, reaching out her hand. Lance tried to grab it, but he was pushed away, something clawing the side of his face and moving into her sight. It was a dark, vile creature with burning yellow eyes, something she had never heard of in her life, but it scared her half-to-death. This portal, which she had no clue was leading her too, scared her even more. But as the chaos went around, she sank deeper and deeper, until finally her hand faded into nothingness, the portal disappearing from this world...

***

She could not see, but she could feel it was cold, standing up but not doing it on her own. She was like an unanimated figure, but able to hear the people who were here, able to sense them. And these things, whatever they were, were anything but good.

"Hmm...Strength, good. Mental capacity, good. Memory," the voice suddenly became enraged as it finished, "**_perfect_**! I can't STAND it!"

"No need to get angry," an old woman's voice spoke.

"Why not?! This ruins _everything_!" it retorted.

"Yes, but the memory can be tampered with. We can make her forget, yes?" another old woman said.

"You can? Tell me, how do you do this?"

"Simple. If there is anything you want gone, you shall have it gone."

"Fine! Then do it! Make her forget everything but her name, speech, and her fighting techniques. I don't want anything of her past to be remembered!"

"Be warned. There are consequences with such things," one said.

"Yes, deep consequences," another spoke.

"For even though the past can be forgotten, it can be dug up in the return of one," the last stated.

"Then it won't _happen_, will it?" the voice inquired in an orderly manner, the three women replying in a simple 'yes'. "Good. Now, do what you need to do. Oh and can she hear this?"

"Yes, Hades."

"Then erase that too. Don't want any questioning when we're taking control of the universe, now do we?"


	4. A New Life of Each

****

A New Life of Each

She squinted, the salty sands of this place kicking up into her face. She grumbled, wondering why she even had to go out of her room and into the front entrance. Then again, after all this, she'd have someone to do it _for_ her, so she could suffer a bit of aggravation.

Today the traders came in and the place was closed off, all those who gave importance to this world's well-being picking out a servant. Well, it really wasn't a servant, though it was more in the 'correct standing'. They were slaves, obviously, harvested from other worlds by the Heartless and those who worked with them for a profit. But like it mattered; they didn't use munny anyway. That's why they would so gladly give away these things to her or her counterparts, if she _had_ anyone who measured up to her, for free. So, that's exactly why she walked out into the bright afternoon sun, the cursed light she had grown to hate. She didn't like it much; it made her skin burn if she was out in it too long without a hat. But, somehow they had convinced her it was worth it.

She stood before a old man wearing a heavy cloak, a mask and hat concealing all that was not his eyes. She just glared angrily, signaling to him to get this over quick.

"Ah, Your Grace, we have been expecting you. Please, this way," he said, waving the way and walking on, her following. She took out a handkerchief, putting it over her mouth to the baking flesh of these creature. Some were human, others not, but it didn't matter. The man continued as somehow the smell got better. "You are the first to chose and so you have the best selection, as always. But you should be happy, this is the best group yet."

"If this is the best you have then I feel sorry for your business," she spat, putting the cloth back into her pocket. "Where do you get these things, anyway?"

"For the farthest corners of the universe! The most unique, gifted of the bunch! What you saw back there is the leftovers, so please pay no mind to them. But back here, is the prize that even you should be proud of." He stopped when a wide u-turn of people lined up, mostly of human origin.

"This? Please, the lowest ranking of fighters would be better than these sorry excuses."

"Umm, well...We have plenty to chose from! The human women have been the most picked, seeing how their find craftiness in sewing and hairdressing are unsurpassed!"

"Somehow your words don't convince me otherwise," she said, looking around as he continued to ramble on.

She somehow found herself interested in the caged beings towards the back. Most were in chains, sitting back calmly as if waiting to be unleashed, to do something deadly. They would probably be bought for fighting purposes, but one seemed different. He was unconscious, lying on his back with a blood-red cape around him. He was a human, to what she could tell, with black pants and a dark blue shirt. As with most of these beings, he had no shoes, and his feet were scarred and gashed. He had dirty brown hair, a scar on the left side of his face. She narrowed her eyes, thinking.

"Who is this one, and why is he in a cage?" she questioned, interrupting his speech.

He walked over, shaking his head. "Oh you do not want this one. He was found in a deep carven mining facility, and was a most resistant one when we tried to take him. He hit his head pretty hard, and he has been unconscious ever since."

"How do you know he's still alive?" she questioned.

"He still has a heartbeat," he replied, turning away. "But again, you do not want such a being."

"A heartbeat..." she whispered, pausing for a moment. She saw his hand lying there, seeing the black glove over it with bronze claws. This rode out the assumption that he was human, but at least he was something like it. But she wasn't quite human either, so she shouldn't complain. She reached out her hand, about to touch it. Her wrist was suddenly grabbed, being pulled away.

"There is a power dwelling around this man, especially to that hand. Don't not touch."

Her anger boiled, clenching her fist. Suddenly, the old man went flying back into the others, the hair on her head rising slightly and then falling back into place. She didn't even care to look back, only continued to stare at the person's hand.

"Do not speak to me as if I am a child, old man. I know he has a power, for I can sense it within him. And if you dare touch me again, be warned that you shall regret it." She moved her feet, beginning to walk back to her room after she spoke. "I will take this one, for he seems to hide a secret that I will find out."

With that the sands kicked up again, other going to get the man out of the cage, hauling him into the building. They went up the steps to her room, where she held open the door for them to enter. She told them to put him on the sofa, chain him to the nearest pillar there with a chain long enough for at least him to walk around. Some people restricted there servants to just a foot-long chain, and usually they had to reach with their feet the get something. She didn't want that, even if he was going to be her servant. She wasn't _that _cruel, after all.

"Get some shoes and some wrap. And I want it in a hurry, understand?"

"Yes, Your Grace," one of them answered, the two of them who had brought him in sculling out and getting what she asked.

They returned in no time, handing her the pair of brown boots and white wrap. They quickly ran out again, shutting the door from behind. She turned her head from where she stood, her long earrings chiming on her metal armor. She walked on over to him, kneeling at his feet and beginning to wrap his cuts for them to heal properly. She didn't want to put the boots on yet, for his feet needed to get better first before he could even walk.

As she stood up, she moved over to the side, leaning over. She wondered what his eyes looked under there. Were they black? Were they glowing yellow like the heartless? She wanted to know, and since he was unconscious, this shouldn't hurt him at all. So she put her hand on his eyelid, spreading it to see the color. In a moment she was shocked to see the bright blueness of it, and then to have it focus. The clawed hand reached up, about to grab her hand, when she jumped back, holding up a hand and making it up. Both eyes came open wide, staring at her for a second before he tried to sit up, but she held up another hand, making him lie back again.

"Don't get up. Your strength has yet to return," she said, the man relaxing as he looked deep into her pale green eyes. She thought for a moment that if he was not human he didn't entirely understand her, so she began to talk slowly and loudly. "_Hello!_ _My name is Nevaeh! Can you un-der-stand me?_"

"Yes, I can understand you!" he shouted, putting a hand on his head. "You don't need to yell!"

She stood back, blinking in surprise. "You understand me then?"

He looked at her as if she were being ignorant or something. "Of course I do! What do you take me for, a Heartless?"

"Are you human then?"

He hesitated, soon saying, "Something like it."

She stepped forward again, getting close to his face and narrowing her eyes. "Then what are you? What is your name?"

"They call me Strife," he answered. "I don't actually know what I am...rather, _who_ I am even. I hit my head a long time ago and forgot everything except for that name, so everyone calls me it. One thing I can remember though, is being stuck in those mines for three years with the starving coldness." He stared, looking behind her to see her black and white wings. "Why? What are you?"

She turned away, shaking her head. "Don't ask me that question ever again, Strife. Ever."

"What make you think I'm staying here?" he questioned, and she laughed.

"Because, you were sold to me. You're my servant now."

"No way! I ain't standing for it!" He got up, about to stand but quickly sat back down, reaching for his feet. He saw that they were wrapped, looking back up in wonder.

"Oh yes, you are. And such language will not be permitted here, understand?" She saw that he was wondering about his feet, and shrugged. "Well, I can't have you catching any diseases now can I? You were the only decent one in that group, so I should take good care of you if you're going to last."

"You talk as if I'm your pet," he stated.

"If you want to think of it that way," Nevaeh replied.

She looked to the door as a bell rang, Nevaeh sighing and waving a hand. "Well, I'll be back shortly. Might as well get this over with."

"What?" he asked.

"Fighting. I always go in one battle per day because of all these challengers. Those poor souls...I guess the other championships have gotten too easy. I should tell the administrator to boost fighting capability. Anyway, like I said, I'll be back."

She raised a hand, dust collecting at her feet as her long silver hair rose, the dust swirling up and consuming her, her being disappearing from sight. The sky in the back darkened, but he paid no mind. He only tried to find a way to stand, searching for balance. When he had, he slowly made his way to the door, thinking of somehow getting out of here. _Anywhere_ but here. He wouldn't be a slave, not after what he had been through. But he found as he came in reach of the door handle, his hands were chained back, unable to grasp it. He gazed back, seeing the chain being hooked up to the pillar and drilled into it. He looked to his wrists, seeing that nothing could break them except for a key. He cursed, shaking his head and walking back to the sofa. He wasn't going to stand around if he didn't need to, but at least give his feet a break to heal. Somehow he would find a way to get out of here, and the best time would be when his feet healed.

He sat back until the door came slamming open, a groan of annoyance sounding. he just stared, wide-eyed, as she entered, blood stained on her armor, face, and hair. She shook her head, quickly unsnapping her bronze chest plate, revealing a white shirt. Nevaeh went to the small pool to the side, looking like a bath at first, but she suddenly tossed it in, kneeing to wash her hands off. She dunked her head in the water, blinking when she brought her head back up. She knew his question, and laughed, standing up.

"Let me guess, you're probably wondering, 'Who did she kill today?' Sorry, I don't do that kind of thing. Now hurting them severely is a different story, only to the point of the medics powers. They wanted ruthless, so I gave them ruthless, but I shall never kill anyone."

He grinned. "So I guess I can be glad about that?"

She nodded. "Yes, you have everything to be glad about." She pointed to the floor. "Oh, and don't try getting up again, or I'll shorten that chain of yours to just that sofa."

Strife stared, confused. "How did you know?"

She went to her bed on the other side of the room, taking off and armor-clad boots and setting them to the side. "I have my ways, so don't try anything funny."

"Will do," he replied, soon looking around. "So...what exactly do I do?"

"You know how to sew?" she asked.

"Not really," he answered.

She picked up a holey cloth, opening a drawer and getting out a needle and thread. She tossed it to him, returning to her spot at her dresser. "Then learn. If you're going to be here then you might as well."

"Don't you have maids to do this stuff?" he asked.

"Yes, but you might as well do something to pass the time."

"Yeah, I guess..."

She looked to him. "Is there something you'd rather do?"

"Yeah, _sleeping_ would be nice."

She rolled her eyes, turning back to her book. "Very well. I'll let you off easy for a few weeks for your feet to heal."

He threw the things to the floor, sighing in relief as he lied back, crossing his arms and shutting his eyes. She smiled, finding humor in how in such a simple way peace could be achieved in one's soul. He laughed, surprisingly, Nevaeh thinking he might be asleep so fast, but he wasn't.

"Guess you're not such a bad person after all. After all I heard about you," he stated to her.

"Yes...Maybe so..."


	5. Dark Voices, Psychotic Purposes

****

Dark Voices, Psychotic Purposes

She sat at her desk as always, reading her book as Strife presumably slept soundly on the sofa. But she knew he was awake, only tried to stay away from conversation. He saw this too, when he peeked through the corner of his eye, and decided to make one. Strife opened his eyes, staring up at the large, sandstone ceiling as he spoke.

"So, what do I call you then? It's been about two weeks, so it's about time I did. Will it be Master, Mistress, Ma'am, or maybe Your Grace? Seems everyone around here calls you that."

"Call me whatever you want," she answered.

"Really?" he grinned menacingly. "Alright then, lady."

She looked to him sharply, finally diverting her sight away from her book. "Just don't call me that."

He laughed, sitting up and turning to her. "Then what do I call you?"

"Nevaeh," she replied. "Just call me Nevaeh."

He raised an eyebrow, shaking his head. "You don't really want a servant do you?"

"No, not really. Especially one who talks too much," she shot back. "I like me solitude, thank you, and I always have. I don't really like it that much when the maids come to do my hair, either."

"Then why did you get one?" he asked.

"Because I had too. He said it would make me look more...well, that I control the life of another person."

"He?" Strife inquired. 'Who's '_he_' ?"

"The one who brought me here. Who said I had great potential, like my father."

"Oh," he nodded. "So you fight here like your father, do you?"  
"I guess, or at least that's what he said. I don't know."

"You don't like this guy very much, do you?" he asked.

"Not really. See, I don't exactly _want_ to fight, but I have too, for the cause. If I fight, then he'll take control of worlds and I'll be able to find my family." Her face frowned. "Though...I don't quite remember them...I have no idea how I lost my memories, but I must've hit my head before I was found, like you almost."

He just stared, wondering. This sounded almost familiar, like something was missing. He asked when she had been found, and she told him three years before. It was almost _too_ coincidental then, but there was no proof. Maybe it was just a fault, for the worlds had begun to disappear three years before, so maybe the same had happened to her, just on a different world.

She sighed, closing her book and standing. She walked over to him, leaning over to get face to face and shrugged. "Want to go for a walk?"

He started to laugh, Nevaeh smiling in realizing the irony to it. Strife nodded his head, Nevaeh standing straight and grabbing his wrists. She flipped the chain that had been around her neck to reveal a key, pulling it off her head and unlocking the cuffs. Going to the table as he rubbed his soar wrists, she turned, Strife finding that she soon tied a rope around one. Nevaeh only grinned, explaining.

"I have to put you on something or else you might drag behind and the guards will think your an assassin."

"But aren't you suppose to be all great and powerful?" he questioned.

"Yes, but sometimes I neglect my sense of people."

"Why?"

She did not answer, but only tugged him along and out the door. They entered into a dark hallway, guards standing at her door. She told them to watch the place while she was gone, where they stood their ground as they past. With it, the hall lead out to another, the brightness of the sun reflecting on the battle grounds. A fight was taking place, with one side being a human, the other a team of Heartless. But Nevaeh only pulled him along past it, as if not wanting to look anymore. She lead him to another hall, this one with no battle arena but still bright with the outside. The stone roof kept them in shade, but Strife did no such thing. As Nevaeh let the rope go, she told him he could go look off the edge and into the light. He did so, turning up to the sky to get the rays of the sun on him. When he looked back, he breathed in the fresh air, looking to the ground. From high above he saw something, narrowing his eyes in thought of what it was. But he really didn't need to, for Nevaeh would explain.

"That's the statue of my so-called father. I can imagine him with the silver hair and green eyes, but I do not see him. Though I do not remember much, I do remember that my father was not evil. That statue, no matter if it was a mistake or not, depicts one who is."

"Oh, come now, you don't really think that, do you?" a voice came from the side, Strife looking behind to find a dark, blue-fire haired creature, an icy glaze over his face. Nevaeh didn't need to look to know who it was, even before he spoke.

"What do you want, Hades?" she questioned.

"The question to be asked is, what are you doing out here?"

"I went for a walk. Big deal," she stated.

"And you took _him_ with you?" Hades asked.

"Of course," she said. "His feet are better, and it's about time he went out and saw some daylight!"

"Unlike you, I suppose," he mumbled. Nevaeh looked to face him, clenching her fists and the hair on her had began to rise. He smirked, holding up his hands and backing away. "Whoa, now, only kidding! Jeez, tough crowd! Anyway, I'm here to tell you that your battle has been changed. Instead of later today, it should be right about..." A bell in the distance rang, and his sharp teeth were exposed when he grinned, "now."

She huffed, annoyed already. Hades looked to Strife, reaching out a hand and a dark essence wrapping around his neck. A black chocker collar with chain to his hand formed, Hades pulling him along.

"I'll just take care of this for yo-"

"No!" she shouted, calming when they both stared in question. "I mean, I'll take him. If anything stall the match, but I'll take him back to the room myself."

Hades frowned, snapping his fingers and the chocker disappearing. She went over to Strife quickly, grabbing the rope still around his wrist and soon walking. Hades scowled in anger when they were gone around the corner, disappearing in a puff of smoke. She walked slowly from then on, finally getting to her room in silence a few minutes after. He sat back on the couch, knowing that she would have to put the chain back around his hands. Oddly, he would've thought she'd put them on first before she let the rope go, but instead she took the rope off his wrists and then paused, sighing as she put the metal chains back on him. When she stood up, she turned away, walking to the door.

"I'll be right back," she said, depressed. With it the door quietly shut behind, leaving him in silence.

He just sat there for the longest time, wondering why. She had always seemed to depressed, and now, he finally realized she was sad. But why? She had everything anyone could want here, so what, she didn't want it? If anything, _this_ was better than being in the mines, with no sunlight for ages. But was it really that bad to live your own life, only for the price of fighting once a day? It only lasted for about two minutes, and she came back everyday, sometimes with blood on her armor and sometimes not. It reminded him when the first time he knew she was like this. She came back one day with blood of another competitor, washing her hands off. When she had looked over her shoulder, he saw that she had blood on her one white wing. She knew this too, looking at it for a long while before she plucked it, holding it in front of her. He saw her grip it in her hand, shutting her eyes. He could see her sadness as a tear had fallen down her cheek, and it was not because of the pain in her wing now. There was no expression to her, but as she dropped it, he could hear her whisper, though she had not intended for him to do so.

'_Is this all I am?_' she had asked, though he did not know what she was speaking of, and to that day he did not know.

Maybe, with all these questions he had been asking, and all those she did not answer, were leading up to something. Or maybe...she did not even know _herself_. Maybe she didn't know why she was the way she was, but had just been that way. If she really didn't know who she was, where she came from, or why she was even there or how she got there, maybe she found it hopeless to know and just went along with everything like a puppet of some kind.

A puppet...Somehow, back in his mind, that reminded him of something. Something of what he had heard long ago. But he shook his head, finding it useless to think these thoughts. He couldn't remember anything, and she certainly wasn't going to tell him anything, so what was the point?

He sat back up when he heard the door open, but was surprised when it was just a crack. It slowly creaked and Nevaeh came scuffing in, holding out her hands. Her eyes were paler than usual, bloodshot around the edges. There was blood again on her, but as she slowly made her way to the pool to take off her armor, she did, revealing a hole in the metal. A severe gash plagued her side, Nevaeh slowly putting her hands into the water and splashing it in her face. She still continued to blink, and as she looked to the ceiling widely he could see it did not help any. She stood up again, fumbling once more, as Strife stood up, approaching her as if she did not see him.

"Nevaeh? Are you okay?" he asked.

She laughed, her voice chocked. "I won...That's...always good. The only problem is," she turned to face him, her hand out in front of a wound gouged into her stomach, bleeding tremendously through her shirt, as she looked emulously around, "they forgot to blot out the sun when I was out there."

She stumbled a bit more before she fell forward, Strife there to catch her. He held there for a moment as her eyes rolled back, asking where her guards were. She was able to answer they were on their break. So, all he could do was yell for help, sitting down for her to get off her feet. Someone heard him and found them there, screaming for help when the maid knew Nevaeh was in need for a medic. Several came, coming to her aide and taking her from him, putting on the bed to begin healing her. One of them began wrapping her head over his eyes in bandages, another trying to heal her side. Strife just stood back, watching as they did there work. As they all finished their tasks, there was only one thing that none of them could heal. It was the wound in her abdomen, for it was took deep for even them to heal. So they decided to just wrap it, and wait for it to seal up on its own to where they could heal it.

Even though he could've cared less in the beginning, right now there was too much he wanted to know about her. He was just too curious in her past to let them do this, for the fact she could die, when he himself out do something. Though, he couldn't do anything until they let him go, until he was far enough to put a hand on her forehead.

"Hey, you guys! I can help!" he said.

"Sure you can kid," one of them laughed.

"No, really, I can! Just let me go and I can help!" Every medic and guard in the room began to laugh, but Strife remained stern. "Look, what am I going to do with seven guards in this room who could kill me if I tried to do anything funny? Please, she's going to die if someone doesn't do something, and since you can't let me at least try!"

The room went silent, knowing he was actually being serious. The main guard shrugged, knowing that it wouldn't hurt. One of the other guards snickered, knowing that the only thing he could hurt was his reputation. Strife ignored them when the others began to do the same, being unchained when the guard unlocked the cuffs. All went quiet when he quickly went over to her side, putting a hand on her forehead and begin careful of his claws. He put his other hand over her wound, slowly moving his gloved hand back over her hair as he leaned over, putting his forehead on hers. With it he whispered something, something he had known but not quite understood how he knew it, only that it worked.

"Healing wind," he whispered, a soft breeze beginning to flow through the windows. A green essence came from the ground, ghostly coming up and breathed in by her, the other half circling into the wound. Strife stood back as she gasped for breath, the wound suddenly icing over in like a cast and healing rapidly. It dissipated like crystal shards into the air, disappearing without a trace.

The area grew still as she coughed, lifting her hand to her side.

"Your Grace?" one of the medics asked.

"Thank you, medics and guards, if you are there. I'll be fine, but please inform the person in charge of battles to make sure the sun's blotted out next time."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"You may leave," she said, waving a hand.

The guards put the chains back on Strife's wrists again, walking out as she had requested. Guards would stay by the door, more than usual, with no breaks until she was better as they were ordered after. She would be out of commission for some time until her eyes got better, so, Strife thought, she might be a good time to get some answers...or the best time to steal that key.

At night, when all was still and quiet. Strife knew for sure that she was asleep, so it was the perfect time to get that key around her neck. He stood up, trying to get the chains from rattling too much. He could be just in reach of the chain a little past her shoulder, thought that was stretching it. The moon shown through the wide, open windows, giving him light to see. He reached for it, the gold just reflecting off his fingers when he thought he had it. But he jumped, however, when a hand reached out, Nevaeh chuckling.

"I may be blind, Strife, but I am not deaf," she stated, letting his hand go for him to back away. She grabbed the key and put it back under her head so he would no longer be able to reach it.

He mumbled something in annoyed anger, sitting down. "So you knew."

"Of course I did!" she laughed. "What else would a servant try but to take the key for freedom when their owner's down for the count?"

"That obvious, huh?" he asked, and she nodded.

She turned her head as if she could see if, but still had the bandages over her eyes. "Then again, if you just ask you can have it."

"Really?" he said brightly.

"Well, then again there are about ten guards out that door, not to mention the ones roaming the halls, so your window escape is blown. And even if you pass them, there's no way of getting off this rock. There are no ships kept here."

Strife sank in misery then, sighing. "_Great_..." He shrugged. "I guess if I am stuck here I can resort to Plan B."

"Plan B?"

"Yeah...I finally ask questions about your past."

"About _my_ past? Why would you want to know that?" she asked.

"Dunno. Just curious I guess."

"Well, if you're going to ask me questions I get to ask one to you."

"Okay, shoot."

"You were the one who healed this wound of mine, didn't you? And if you really did...why?"

He paused, not quite sure of the last question himself. But at least he could tell her he had done it, for truth reasons. When he had, though, there was a long moment of hesitation. He couldn't answer the why, and she knew it, but just for the fact that he had surprised her.

Strife finally grinned. "Okay, my turn. Where do you come from?"

"I...don't know..." she answered finally, looking away.

"Then do you know who your mother was? Your father's name?"

"...No..." She turned on her side, away from him. "Strife, do you mind if you ask me these things in the morning. My eyes hurt too much for this."

"What? What does answering questions have to do anything with your eyes?"

Again, a long pause, when she sat up, carefully crawling out of bed. Strife stood as she slowly walked over, reaching out a hand before she ran into him and stopping. She moved her hand up to her face, going under the bandages and bringing her hand back, Strife standing back as he saw what it was. Blood, and more came down her cheek like tears and her expression finally turned sad.

"My eyes will burn with the tears, my eyelids with be scraped and bleed if I cry...So if you don't mind I'd rather you ask these things when my eyes are a bit better."

"Yeah...sure..." he answered.

She twirled back around, trying to find her way back to the bed. She did not know, though, when the step would be there, and hit her ankle on it. She fell to her knees, clenching up her hands and gritting her teeth. Her throat tightened, her eyes squeezing out yet another stream of blood-tears. She spoke, her voice twisted.

"Such a pathetic creature am I, to suffer in such weakness. I have always lived in darkness, and if my eyes meet the sun shall they burn as they did. I can never walk out without a hat because my skin is too fair, and I must wait for years if I am ever to just walk out and look at the blue sky above. What a shame, that I live and hear those dark voices say, "Are we having fun yet? You like this psychotic purpose set for you?" You tell me what is worse...living as you do, with no memories, with those haunted days in the mines, or to live your life to be served upon and still have no memories, yet to fight and strike fear in those who serve and oppose me?" She shook her head, slamming her fist into the marbled floor. "I can't take it anymore. Someone else can do this job, because I can't stand it any further. My life is worthless, only used to defeat obstacles in the way..."

Strife suddenly came behind her, sitting her up and lifting her chin. He smiled with empathy, even though she could not see him, shaking his head.

"Your life isn't worthless, Nevaeh. No life is worthless. You want to find your family, that is why you do this," he said. "Once, to tell you the truth, I thought of myself the same way. Life...had no meaning towards me. I thought that I might've done something wrong in my life I couldn't remember, and that I paid for it with being stuck the way I was. Life was gray..._literally_ and in myself. But on that day when I saw the first ray of sunlight I could remember, I knew I was not cursed this way...but instead did I know there was something else out there. I could bring my life to a new if a really wanted to. You could do the same, and you are."

"The only thing wrong with that is I can't witness a ray of sunshine," she said.

"Yeah, but you don't need to. Not if you know it's there."

She turned her face away, thinking. "So... though there may always be a storm, there's always a bright sky to see too..."

"Now you get the picture." He moved his regular hand across her face, whipping the blood from her face. "Now no more tear from your eyes, okay? No more lonely cries." She nodded her head, leaning against his arm. She just stayed there for a long moment, Strife, almost feeling himself blush, but pulled away gently, standing and helping her up. He helped her to the bed as far as he could go, Nevaeh finding it and climbing in. He turned to leave back to get some sleep, but suddenly she reached out her hand, finding his.

"Thank you, Strife. You're a real friend, you know that?"

"Thanks...You are too," he replied, gripping her hand slightly and then letting it go once more, falling to the side. He mouthed the words 'Good night' as he went back to the sofa, kicking his feet and shutting his eyes, falling asleep in knowing he had finally done something good in return for her kindness.


	6. Send an Angel

****

Send an Angel

She sat up in bed as one of the maids shook her, putting the tray of her breakfast in front of her, handing her a spoon and showing her where it was. When she had realized where it was, the maid left her to her business. Nevaeh struggled as she always did to get it too her mouth, wanting to peek from under the bandages to see, but unable to do so even if she did. She sometimes got frustrated, sending the porcelain bowl flying across the room and smashing into a wall. Of course, that only happened once, and with it woke Strife up to witness she could barely eat on her own. Today he just happened to be awake, looking on as she wrinkled her nose when the spoon flipped in her hands, sending the soup to go back into the bowl.

"You know, I could help you with that," he said.

"I don't need help! I am not an infant!" she shot back angrily. "Besides aren't you suppose to be asleep or something?"

"Couldn't sleep, and I never said you were one," he shrugged, standing and walking forward. "But I could help you out, just this one time. Only problem is...I can't exactly reach you."

She hesitated, but soon put the spoon down, getting the key from around her neck and tossing it across the floor towards him. He quickly picked it up, undoing the cuffs and dropping them to the floor. Strife rubbed his wrists as he walked over, pulling up a chair and sitting next to her. He could see her steaming with calm anger, picking up the spoon and holding it out to him.

"This is not exactly how I want to be fed, thank you, but it appears I have no choice, seeing my disability," she said, shaking her head as he took the spoon away.

"Ain't exactly what I want to do either, but everyone's got to eat, and I can't have you killing over," he replied, taking a spoonful. "Now open your mouth."

She did what she was told to do, closing as the spoon went in her mouth and swallowed. He took the spoon away as she spoke.

"Why?" she asked.

"'Cause, I'd rather have you for an owner than that one creep."

"You mean Hades? Yes, I see your point," she answered, eating yet another spoonful.

"So, if you don't eat you might die, and if you die I'll have to be placed into someone else's care."

"What if there's someone better than me?" she asked.

"What?! Since when is there a better owner who let's there servant slack off all day?" he replied, humor in his voice.

"Slack off, huh? Why, is that what you think you do?"

"What else? All I do is sit around all day, talking to you."

"That's exactly it," she said. "You keep me company. Someone _normal_ to talk to after all these battles."

He stopped, thinking. She turned her head, her gaze upward in not knowing where he was. She asked if he was still there, and he responded shortly. She reached out her hand, wondering if he was still there, and met the top of his head. Nevaeh pulled her hand away, contemplating what was wrong, and finally asked. He did not answer, but took one of her hands, just holding it there for a moment. It was so frail compared to the left hand he held it in, finding it hard to believe anyone could think of him as normal.

"Do you really think of me this way...even though I appear as a monstrosity to others?"

She laughed. "Monstrosity? Strife, you are more human than _myself_. If you believe that hand of your makes you any lesser, don't." She sighed, Strife looking up from his hand. "It is strange, really, that such a cold blooded being as myself could possibly share a friendship with one like yourself. I thought from the start you would fear me, just like the others, but you didn't. I'm surprised, but actually quite glad I met you."

He frowned, shaking his head slowly and sighing. He stood up, holding, still, onto her hand and helping her up. She asked what he was doing, and he only said, "It's about time to showed you the truth."

She had no idea what he meant by it, seeing how she could not see at all. But he lead her along anyway, tying the white rope around his wrist and handing it to her between their hands. As they walked out the door, the guards were about explain when she stopped them, knowing they would say something. She just said they were going for a walk, and they'd be back shortly. They would have disagreed, but they could not go against her word and let her go. Strife continued to lead her through the hallways, finding the stairs and the door to the arena entrance. She could tell it had brightened, when they suddenly stopped in the center, Strife letting go.

"Strife, what are you doing?" she asked, reaching out as he was not there.

But he came back, putting a hand on her shoulder and the other over her eyes, whispering to shush. "It's about time you saw the sky," he said.

Her face turned to worry, knowing she was helpless. "But I-I can't look at the sky! I'll go blind permanently!"

"You won't," he said, shutting his eyes. He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small container of blue water as he continued to cover her eyes. "This was a gift given to me by one of the miners. Something called 'eye drops'. It's supposed to cure blindness, but only if we do this right. Keep your eyes shut until I tell you to, okay?"

"Are you sure it will work?" she questioned.

"Of course it will! And if it doesn't...then you can shoot me. But it won't fail. I'm going to take this bandage off your eyes, but keep your eyes shut, understand?"

She nodded slightly, Strife preparing to do so. He took off the bandages, lifting her head up and Nevaeh squinting her eyes tighter. He opened the small container, putting two drops onto her eyelids. It seeped in, her eyes relaxing. Strife then told her to open her eyes, which she did.

Her eyes no longer burned, but blinked with the brightness of the blue sky. She just stared, smiling as she realized she was seeing this, for real. The sun glazed off her silver hair as she twirled around, laughing. No more darkness, no more blotted out sun, but just seeing for her own eyes the sky. She looked back to Strife, still smiling, but it faded when he didn't give the slightest indication. She walked over to him, about to thank him, when he stood back, shrugging.

"And now to show you," he said, sighing. "I couldn't do this unless you saw with your own eyes. And I couldn't just tell you or else you wouldn't believe. I didn't use the eye drops because...I really didn't want to tell you, but I guess I have to."

"Strife, what are you talking about?" she finally asked.

He reached for the collar of his cloak, swallowing. Strife somehow managed the courage to pull it off his head. He threw it to the ground, stretching out his left arm as he did, and unleashing what had been on his back the whole time. A wind drifted by with the silence, Nevaeh wide-eyed. She shook her head, backing away.

"No...how can this be?" she said. "You remind me...somehow...of someone I once new...but I can't quite remember...I knew he meant something, but I don't know who he is...Somehow you remind me of him. Of the one...I used to know."

"As do you...That's why I thought I had to tell you, because you reminded so much of someone. Your name seemed so familiar, and I thought you might know. That's why I stayed before."

"Then why do you stay now?" she asked suddenly, looking to his face from where she stared at his wing.

He shook his head. "I don't know. I just know I have to stay for some reason..."

She stood there, the wind beginning to blow her hair into her face. In an instant she was suddenly there before him, wrapping her arms under his and hugging him. He was completely stunned, not knowing what to do. But he soon put an arm around her shoulder, a hand on her head.

She shook her head slightly. "I don't care what you are, Strife. Just don't go. Don't you ever leave."

"Don't worry," he chuckled. "I'm not going anywhere."

Somehow that stuck in the back of their minds, crawling to reach the surface of their memories. But it died before it could, back to where it came, Nevaeh's eyes beginning to water. He pulled away, knowing this, and smiled half-heartedly.

"I thought I told you not to cry anymore," he said.

"You did, but these aren't sad tears." She smiled, taking the rope around his wrist. "Now come on, let's get back. Maybe you can tell me more about this person."

She walked along with him as he continued, picking up his cloak and making their way out of the arena. But little did they know of the being looming overhead. He had watched this unfold, getting curious when he saw that wing. He remembered such another being possessing one leathery wing, and knew exactly, now, who this man was. He grinned once more menacingly, knowing how good an opportunity this was.

As they reached her apartment, she took the rope off his wrist, running over and sitting by her desk. She asked him again to tell her what this person might have been like, why her name reminded him so much of this one. She began to think that he might no something about her own past, that she might have been apart of it somehow, and that he might actually be this person she herself had remembered somewhere in time. And maybe, just maybe, he was the angel she had asked for. A while ago she had asked for an angel from above, to wipe away the tears she cried in sorrow and tell her about her past. Somehow, in some unusual way, he had done one part, and now she wanted to know the other.

He explained to her the things that were foggy to him, that somehow reminded him of her. Her greens eyes, the feathered wings on her back, it all lead up to something, though he could not quite gasp it. But she really didn't care, as long as it held some significance. He finally said he couldn't remember anything more, but that was all right with her. As long as he knew something.

She stood, hearing something at the door. She walked forward, seeing Hades enter without even knocking, and narrowed her eyes in anger.

"Good afternoon, Nevaeh! Up and well I see!" he said.

"What do you want, Hades?" she questioned angrily, wanting to get this over with.

"Actually, I came for him," he said, pointing to Strife. He walked past her slowly floating over. "See, we've had a bit a change in plans, and I'll be needing to confiscate this from you." He snap his fingers, the black collar appearing around his neck again with a chain leading into Hades hands. But a metal sound rang, Hades turning to find a sword pointed to his neck.

"Put him down, Hades, he is my property! You take him away you die!" she threatened, narrowing the rang of the masamune to his throat.

"First of all," he laughed, moving the sword away with a finger, "too late. I'm already dead. Second, it appears there has been a bit of a misunderstanding. All caged beings were sold to the fighting arena, and he just happened to be a caged being. I'm very sorry for the misunderstanding, Nevaeh."

"You deceitful crazed..." she began, but was cut off.

"Well, if this is all, then I best be going. Good day, Nevaeh."

As Hades dragged him away on his feet, Strife whispered out of his notice that he'd be okay, the door shutting when they were out of the room. Nevaeh fell to her knees, unable to do anything. She could not go against the rules of the fights, not _even_ her, so she was powerless. Outside the doors, Hades handed Strife over to the guards to take to the dungeon with the rest of the fighters, grinning as he left to his own layer.

When he wandered the halls, the called upon for old women, two of them missing their eyes and one with just one. He walked with his hands behind his back, thinking everything was calm and going to plan.

"So, is everything set then?" he asked.

"Yes, sire, but there is a slight flaw."

He stopped, turning to face them. "_Flaw?_"

One of the women hit the other on the head, popping the eye out and putting it into her own socket. "You did get rid of the problem for _her_ remembering..."

Another poked the woman in the eye, taking the eyeball and putting it into her eye socket. "Though we made him forget as well, our magic only works so well."

"What do you mean? I thought you said it was the best," he stated.

"Yes," one replied, the other take the eyeball once more.

"But when twice a go, up will the memories show."

He rubbed his head, getting annoyed. "So what your saying is that if he hits his head twice he will remember _everything_?"

The one now with the eyeball spoke, "Not everything. Just the first thing he sees that is from his memories, which shall probably be her."

The second one to have the eyeball took it again. "And it does not have to be a hit on the head. It can be any traumatic event, in saying the girl has done this once. Face another, and she shall remember."

"Oh great, that's just _perfect_!" he shouted, rolling his eyes.

"But you did get rid of the one problem for now. All you have to do is keep the boy from hitting his head too hard again and the girl out of harms way."

"So...how do I do this?"

"Keep her from the games for a bit, and slowly that event shall disappear back to zero."

He nodded his head, grinning. "Alright...that's reasonable. Very good." With this, he turned away, the women thinning to nothing as he continued his way into the shadows once again...


	7. Gir, the Hyperactive Mechanical Maid of ...

****

Gir, the Hyperactive Mechanical Maid of the Future!

He was pushed out onto the hot training sands of the back arena, where all fighters were preempted before battle, (except for maybe the more important). He was just out here because they wanted to see how good his skills were and were to place him among the rankings. They also wanted to see what this wing of his was, and if it was of any use. He was handed a crummy old blade, rusted and stained with blood from previous battles. They placed him in a few battles against Heartless, wimpy ones at that, for about ten battles. Then they became harder, becoming more ruthless with every rank he gained. He thought these things might be random, considering that some before had been stronger than others now. But it didn't matter. Nothing did. All he had to do was beat these enemies and maybe he could get some peace.

Finally, in what would seem for ages, his last match finally came. It was finally a human, too. This man looked about his age, wearing all black with a white t-shirt under a black jacket. His hair was a dark brown, a silver chain around his neck with a medallion at the end. He carried a much better blade than Strife's, being all metal and looking like it had a _trigger_ on the handle. As the match was to commence, the man held the weapon towards him, pulling that trigger and shooting Strife's right hand, his only good hand, and making him drop it.

"Sorry excuse for a weapon you got there," the man laughed, standing in ready for attack.

"Yeah, but what do you except from a Heartless-running place?" he stated, shaking his hand's pain off and spreading his fingers in the other. "Besides, I got my own weapon."

"You mean that hand of yours? What are you going to do, _claw_ me to death?" he said sarcastically.

Strife just smirked, pulling off his cloak. "Something like that, but more along the lines of slitting your throat if necessary."

The man raised an eyebrow when he saw Strife's wing rise from his back. He just shrugged, saying it was his move. Strife smirked, taking the opportunity to finish this now. He stretched out his wing, leaping forward and gliding across the land at incredible speeds. He reached his arm out, swiping across and landing back on his feet past the man, not bothering to turn as the man dropped the 'gunblade' as it would be dubbed, falling on his knees and onto his face. Strife twisted around, walking past the man as he spoke.

"No offense, but I need some shuteye. Wouldn't have beaten you up so bad, but hey, guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do." He went over to the judges who were inspecting his moves, Strife folding his wing back up and putting his cloak back on. "So, what now?"

"Hmm...Give him last seed in the Pegasus Cup. Seems he has beaten all opponents within it. All right, that's it. Take him away."

Two guards came up from behind, pushing him along back to the dungeons. He would be placed somewhere else, somewhere deeper and darker than the area he had been in before. He was placed in a large, damp cell, shutting the iron bars on him. He tried going back up to them, but was caught with electricity, pulling away. He cursed as his left hand twitched, steam coming off from it. It didn't hurt, but the whole point of the matter was that it had gone numb.

He heard someone speak from behind him, sounding like the man from before. He turned and saw him sitting in the shadows, his arms crossed. It brought wonder to his mind how he got here before him, but it was probably because the medics brought him down right away to be healed, locking him away.

"Seems I'm stuck with you, huh? Would've rather been stuck with a Heartless, but seeing how your the only other person in this place with a heartbeat it just ended it like it," he spoke, shrugging. "Name's Leon. Yours?"

"Strife," he answered. "You were sold here too?"

"Nah, I was here before the Heatless came. They just force me to do this now and I don't get paid. Not to mention they took someone away from me..." He shook his head. "Anyway, they said there had been a half-human on the surface, which I suppose would be you. Were you a servant for a time?"

"Yeah, I was. But I was placed down here after they found out I had a wing, I guess."

"Let me guess, Hades brought you down here?" Leon questioned.

"How'd you tell?" he said sarcastically. "That guy's got some issues, I swear."

"You were excepting something else?" he smirked. "He'd been gone for a while there, but I guess he just came back." He frowned, narrowing his eyes. "But I wonder where that girl came from..."

"What? You mean Nevaeh?"

"Is that her name? Well, whatever. I guess, if she has silver hair, two wings, and one bad attitude, sure, that's who I'm talking about. Why, were you the one serving her?"

He paused, soon nodding his head. Leon suddenly laughed, shaking his head.

"That must've been something! Jeez, I can only imagine what she did to you up there. Do everything for her, all her laundry that was probably blood soaked, give her foot rubs..."

"Actually, no. It was none of that," he said back.

Leon stopped, raising an eyebrow. "Then what did you do up there?"

"Nothing...I didn't do anything," he answered, putting his head on the wall and looking out to the hall.

"You're kidding," he said. "So you just sat there doing nothing for, what, seven months?"

"Something like that..."

A squeaky sound came rolling through the other side of the hall, Strife not turning to look. He just thought it would go away, as everything did, but as it got to it's loudest it stopped. He looked up, seeing a brace figure standing before him. It was wearing a dress attached to its body, a large mouth smiling at him as it held a tray. To green, digital eyes stared down, multi-colored wires sticking out of it's head as if curls of hair.

"Stop looking so down, deary! Here, have a drink!" it said in an animated girl voice, picking a glass of water from its tray and reaching through the bars, handing to him.

He drank it without a word, a gloomed look on his face. He saw Leon stand up, going to the bars and smirking. Oddly enough as he put his hands around them he was not shocked as Strife had been. Instead he reached out, the mechanical being rolling away as its eyes seemed to narrow.

"Aw, c'mon Gir! Just one glass!" he pleaded, a smirk still on his face.

"This is for people who deserve it, not for mocking twits like you!" it said, turning its head away.

"But I deserve it! I fought against this guy!" he replied.

"Really? And did he loose?" it asked Strife, who only nodded his head. The being twirled around in joy, smiling again. "Yipee! It's about time you got beat! YOU GOT BEAT! YOU GOT BEAT! Nah, nah, nah, nah, _nah_,_ nah_!"

Leon sulked, rolling his eyes in annoyance. "This is what I get...The hyperactive defect of the future..."

The being glared, its eyes turned red and picking up a glass of water. When he thought he was going to receive it, the being suddenly splashing it into his face, shaking a finger. "It's Hyperactive Mechanical Maid of the Future, to you!"

"Whatever..."

The being rolled over to Strife again, smiling and its eyes going green again. "Now, where did you come from? I here you were a servant."

"Hasn't everyone..." he said shallowly. The being sounded like it sighed.

"Yes, well, news goes around fast here."

"'Specially with your mouth," Leon grinned.

"SHUT UP!" it suddenly shouted, Leon chuckling and walking back. "Yeah, you go back to your corner you sorry excuse for a human! Anyway, what be your name sir?"

"Strife..." he answered, handing the glass back up to her.

The robot went wide-eyed, taking the glass and looking like it was in shock. "_Really_? You mean Her Grace's Strife? Wow, I can't believe you're actually still here!"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Well, everybody's been saying Hades killed you because you got a _wee_ _bit_ too close to Her Grace. It's been a few days, after all. Oh, and I've heard that she's been taken out of the games because of her frailness right now, but I just spoke with her and she doesn't seem any bit weak. Strange, but in my own opinion I think Hades just has less turpentine to fuel his hair and is just in a _mess_ about his prized fighter going soft."

"Either that or he has a bug up his-" Gir gave Leon a look, him smirking, "nose..."

"Yeah, that's what I thought!" It shook its head, waving a hand. "Best be off then. Hear there's another challenger climbing up into these ranks so they'll be coming for you shortly."

"Thanks," Leon said.

"No problem, guys! Just don't get beaten up too much out there, alrighty? TALLYHO!" With that, the being rolled away, squeaking off into silence once again.

And soon came the sound of clicking keys, guards coming around the corner. They spoke of Strife getting up, the crummy old sword in one of their hands. As he did stand, the gate opening, Leon said something, saying he could use the gunblade. He tossed it to Strife, him nodding in acknowledgment and walking out with the escort of the guards.

The newfound warrior was brought out into the arena, soon facing his opponent. He wanted to laugh, seeing that it was only a boy, maybe a few years younger than he was. In his hand he held another blade, the boy narrowing his eyes in thought as he saw Strife. Or rather, the gunblade which was given to him, for it was as if the boy seemed to know who possessed it before him.

But it didn't matter. He'd get this fight over with, and go back to his cell as was supposedly meant for the rest of his life. He could see why now Nevaeh had been tired of so many fights, for it became depressing after awhile. Yet, he could only wonder how it must've been for her, for three _years_ everyday without one ray of hope. He noticed, out of the brightness of the sandstone arena, that there was a patch of darkness in the corner of his eye. He had no time to look before the match started, which gave him initiative to win this, so he could look on his way out.

The boy came forward, swiping across. He easily sidestepped, swiping back and slicing him in the back. But the boy quickly stood back up, reaching quickly into his pocket and grabbing a potion. Strife grinned, wondering why he wasn't allowed to use potions. Then again, mostly everyone wanted him dead, so that was probably the reason. Again, the challenger came forward, this time casting an electric attack. Somehow it managed to hit him, but not do any significant damage.

However, it did manage to tick him off.

He threw off his cloak, gaining energy within him. He spread his wing to its fullest, leaping up into the air and dashing across the arena at full force, trying to hit his foe. But the boy jumped, gliding through the air in a distance he could not reach. When he came back down to his feet, though, Strife took the advantage, coming up from behind and knocking him half way across the other side, sending him unconscious.

With it, the fight ended, and he quickly looked up to what he noticed before. Strife's eyes narrowed in the unforgiving sunlight, but more in wonder than anything else. There stood his last, silver-haired owner, wearing a teal dress with dark blue pants underneath. Her hair was done back in a braid, pieces falling out and running over her face with her eyes unwavering. She stood out in the empty stands from where the dark essence grew, the blue flaming haired creature standing but not daring to go out into the light. He glared when he noticed he was staring at her, Nevaeh looking back. The creature said something Strife couldn't understand, but guards soon came to take him away. He pushed them away, scoffing and picking up his coat to walk on his own means back to his cell.

When he was gone, Nevaeh sharply turned away, walking out the other way. The creature known as Hades disappeared, reappearing when she was back in the shadowed halls not too far from the arena. Even though she knew he was there, she did not stop for a moment, and did not grant him a single glace.

"You're still mad at me, aren't you? Well what can I say, he was supposed to be the games, and the mishap just accrued," he stated.

Nevaeh stopped all of the suddenly, her eyes beginning to glow a white, as she turned with a cold gaze. "What are you trying to pull, Hades? I know why you took him away, _everyone_ does!" she hissed. "You just don't want your number one fighter to get touchy, right? To be cold, _heartless_, all for your gain!"

"Aren't we forgetting something? Who brought you here, huh? Who took you away from that dying planet and brought you into this glorious world where you could have everything you want?"

"All but freedom..." she said dryly, her pale, green eyes casting a ruthless voice. "If I did not know of my past, if I had one scrap of evidence that my family was still out there, I would not be such a merciful person towards you Hades. Your campaign would be ruined if it was not for me, the whole race of Heartless would be _gone_ for all I care, but for the only reason that you have information where my family is located do I stay. You're pushing this nonsense to the edge, and I am loosing my patience. Be warned, that if you do one more thing to harm that man, or myself in a mental perspective, your empire shall fall." She smirked menacingly. "And you know that I can do this. Without a doubt, I will."

With this, she moved back to where she was walking in the first place, back to her room to bask in the sunlight and gaze at the blue sky Strife had let her see. As for Hades, he grumbled in annoyance, his hair turning a red color as he faded into nothingness, back to his layer to consider such matters at hand.

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A/N So what did you think? BOOYA, is what I say. About time someone talked back, wouldn't you say? Thanks for reading and please review and stay tuned for the next chapter! (Oh yeah, and that kid was Sora....if you were wondering


	8. A Thousand Hearts

****

A Thousand Hearts

His battles continued, and his worth became less and less with every passing day. All that he knew he was still alive was the fact for a chattering robot and a cellmate that slept constantly and snored. It got annoying after awhile, but he didn't complain. Why would he, for it was either that or complete silence. A chatter box robot was at least better than that.

Strife hid in his dark, small corner of the cell, contemplating the life before him and what it had been. He didn't sleep much anymore, (if he ever did), and for now, all he could do was sit and wait for his next fight. Another pointless, mocking fight. He lost track of time when he was down there, not remembering how many days it was since the last time he'd been in the sunlight for more than five minutes at a time. Though, whichever way his life was to go, Strife figured he was better off not knowing how long it had been, and just live another day.

At night, when yet again Leon and the rest of the area's creatures were asleep, he for once felt tired, crossing his arms and bowing his head as he shut his eyes. As he drifted off, he slumped over, his head clanking on the bars. Strife grumbled under his breath and shook his head, sliding back some so his head would not touch them. His eyes were heavy, going almost numb in unconsciousness, when he heard a squeaking sound. Paying no mind to it he rolled over, figuring it was just Gir making runs for the guards who had past out about an hour earlier. But as the sound left his hearing, he could hear something else, like footsteps that stopped right near him.

A voice suddenly echoed in a whisper through his mind, his eyes opening slowly to the touch light in the hall. But as his eyes focused, he saw a cloaked figure, glassy eyes fixated on him. He blinked, seeing the woman smiled, and eventually smiled back. Strife sat up, rubbing his head finally from where he had hit it, as she put her hands around the bars, taking one to unveil her face firsthand. His sense of reality grew thin as he witnessed Nevaeh, kneeling before him, and Strife's eyes widened as he knew it was real.

"Hey," she whispered. "How have you been?"

"I don't know; however you define dark, dank, and gloomy, that's basically it," he said sarcastically, shrugging. "What are you doing here? I thought you would've been restricted to the upper levels."

"I was, but there's nothing like a loyal robot to slip the guards sleeping pills, now is there?"

Strife laughed. "Yeah, that'll pretty much do it. But how did you slip pass Hades?"

"I believe he's in a meeting of some sort, so I managed to slip by unnoticed." Nevaeh reached into her pocket, unwrapping a cloth to reveal a loaf of bread. She handed it to him, continuing, "I'm sorry it's so small but it's the only thing I could carry without being noticed."

"Hey, that's okay," he replied. "It's about the size of food we get in a week down here...or at least I think it's a week. How long have I been down here, anyway?"

"...A month, actually..." she answered slowly.

As he finished about half in a single bite, he swallowed soon after. "Say, Nevaeh, why did you come down here, anyway?"

"To bring you some food, why else?!" she laughed.

"Yeah but there must be an ulterior motive, right? There must be something you want to ask maybe?"

She hesitated, but soon shrugged, putting the cloth in her pocket. "No, nothing I want to ask."

"Then what is it?" he finally asked.

Nevaeh paused, but smiled, shaking her head. "It's nothing," she said, standing up. She spoke the words of good-bye, but before she could step away he reached up his hand, and unfortunately the left one. He was shocked again, shaking his hand and shrugging.

"Keep forgetting not to use that hand," he said, Nevaeh turning back.

She kneeled down again, putting her hands on the bars. "You do realize that it is only Heartless who can't touch these bars, do you not? If you can touch it with your other hand, then it is just that one that has been infected with Heartless."

"So, what, I'm about one-hundredth Heartless or something?"

"If you touched the essence of darkness, then yes, your hand is darkness," she replied. She just stared for a moment as he sat there in shock.

"No wonder I can defeat enemies so fast...Because it's all darkness!" He grinned. "Cool."

She smirked slightly, sighing. "You want to know why I am here?" she inquired, and he nodded his head. Nevaeh paused one last time, and said, "Though I have never felt it before, somehow...when you left...I _missed_ you. That's why I came, because I wanted to see you again..."

But that was not the only reason why she had come, though she would never admit it. For she had had something come to her in a dream; no, a nightmare, and it stuck with her even as she was awake. She remembered it as if it had been _real_, and the very reason she was here was to makes sure Strife was alive, that it had not really happened.

Nevaeh could picture it so vividly in her head. The very thought even sickened her, as she remembered standing out in the sunlight in the stands as she usually did. The sky had darkened by the request of the challenger, seeing Strife standing out waiting for him. She remembered hearing Hades to her far side speak for the fight to commence. The fighter had entered, and somehow she was surprised how he looked, fogged out by her memories. But she could see he wore all black stretching an arm to unleash...she couldn't remember. It must've been a sword from behind his back, because he brought it in front and prepared to fight. The match seemed to speed up in her mind until it finally came to the point when Strife had been down for a moment, the challenger grinning menacingly, for she recollected that cold, bitter being as he stood again, unleashing an attack that would render Strife helpless for one last blow as the sword ripped through his chest...

Nevaeh blinked, coming back as she suddenly felt an icy hand on the side of her face. Strife had done this, noticing her blank stare and having her come back. She managed a smile, lifting a hand and putting it on his. Nevaeh did not want the moment to end, and in truth neither did Strife, so they remained up until the point the squeaking came back, Gir's lit-up eyes in yellow mode as she came up to her.

"Your Grace, it is time we leave! The potion is wearing off on the guards!" Gir stated, putting a metal hand on her shoulder.

Strife slipped his hand away, Nevaeh standing up. He gave a short wave as she sadly looked away, being quickly pushed out by Gir. Well enough she was gone, and a groggy yawn came from down the hall, sounding like the guards were up. He turned with his back up against the wall, soon hearing a voice to his side.

"Apparently that's not the only thing you did while you were up there than just nothing," Leon stated, wide-awake from listening to the conversation. "In some weird way you must've gotten to her. It's just...just...mind boggling that you did!"

"It's none of your concern either," he replied, looking out to the hall.

"None of my concern?! Man, you just solved my problems! If she likes you, then she seriously must've changed somehow, and with it she may actually quit, giving me the advantage of beating all tournaments and not having to go through her!"

"What make's you so sure she'll quit?"

"Look, if it's anything, everybody hates Hades, pure and simple. Even her, and it's not like she doesn't know she's being used for his 'taking-over-the-universe' purposes. She's just in this because she's got no where else to go! But now that you come stumbling along, she might think differently, that there's something else. Who knows, maybe she'll want to get out of this place with the person she cares for so much!"

Strife laughed. "Where did you get that idea? Cares for...Ha! I'm a servant, 'kay, and though I can't remember much, I do remember that servants are meant to serve, not to be treated as equals."

Leon paused. "What the...? Was that just a computerized voice I heard or what? What's with you, anyway? Can't you see what's right in front of you or _what_?"

"What are you talking about? She thinks of me as a friend, that's all."

"If anything, there's something there that neither of you are realizing. Don't know what, but I think there's something deep in that head of yours that, oh I don't know, tries not to be so _ignorant_." He smirked. "You can call yourself a ruthless killer, but I'm pretty sure you gotta soft spot for her too."

Strife scrupled the notion, sighing and shaking his head. "Doesn't matter what I think anyway. There is just no way someone like that could possibly...feel anything more for me. Simple as that."

"Well whatever man. Your choice to ignore it," he said, kicking back his feet again and yawning, shutting his eyes to fall asleep.

In the halls in traveling back to her room, she found herself listening in a conversation, being sidetracked. She walked up to a partly opened door, looking through but keeping out a sight to see the figures talking. One was Hades, of course, with two others there. A man with spiky golden blonde hair was one, wearing a red cape kind of like Strife's was one of them, the other being a woman with auburn colored hair and wearing a pink dress. The man argued accusingly at Hades, speaking about something she didn't quite understand. He said he knew something, that he was a liar and hiding it from them. The woman did not say anything, but still appearing stern in the face of this dark ruler. Finally, the man said something that surprised Nevaeh, wondering striking her.

"Where is my son, Hades?! He was sold here, and I know with your selfish, blood-sucking habits you would not get rid of a good fighter, not even if you were paid a thousand heats!" the man cursed, shaking his fist.

"Unfortunately for you, I already have a prized fighter, and just because I knew by that stupid wing of his that he was yours doesn't exactly mean I kept him," Hades stated, rubbing his forehead in annoyance. "I grow tired of this conversation, really I do. Enough." He waved his hand, sending a force to spread through the air and hit the man with a great affect to go sliding out of the door. Nevaeh stood there, horrified, as the woman ran out after him, helping him up. Hades came out slowly, guards coming from down the call at his request. As he saw Nevaeh standing there he smirked, waving a hand to her. "And here she is now. My prized little gladiator, Neaveh. Speaking of which, what are you doing out of your room?"

"I-I was just...umm...Taking a nightly stroll!" She eyed him angrily. "Why? I do not need to answer to your authority, now do I?"

The man and woman stared with question, seeing Hades back away in a bit of fear and wondering how such a young girl could give this affect. But he continued anyway, "Well, if you don't mind, why don't you just show them out on your way back?"

"Gladly," she answered dryly, turning her shoulder in waiting for them to get up and follow. No guards came with them, and Hades returned to his dark room. But as they came to a deserted hall, she stopped, looking to face them in the bright moonlight. She smiled, trying to seem friendly, but when they had a glance at her silver hair and pale...or rather, to them, her _mako_-green eyes, the woman stood back, the man aiming to draw his weapon. "No, please, do not be confused. I'm not going to hurt you, I just want to know what was that you were speaking of back there. You mentioned your son, did you not?"

The man and woman did not answer at first, but the man nodded his head. "Yeah, our son, Lance. You know him?"

"Lance..." She thought for a moment, soon shaking her head. "No, it doesn't ring a bell. But there is a man here with a wing, not feathered mind you. But first of all, you know who I am, so who are you?"

"...Cloud. Cloud Strife. This is my wife, Aerith. We've been looking everywhere for him after the collapse of our world."

"Yes, that happens..." she answered, contemplating his last name. "I cannot exactly get you too him at this moment, but keep in mind he'll fight within time. If you stay here or near this world for a while, I'm sure the next match will come up for you to watch. You see, I don't exactly think Hades will let you enter."

"Yeah, I realized that a while ago," he answered.

"But thank you for the advice," Aerith spoke up. "When do you expect the next match to be?"

"Umm...probably in a day or so. Just keep that in mind."

"We will," Cloud replied, turning to walk away with Aerith. "Thanks kid. You've been a big help."

"No problem," she said, walking on to her room. She somehow felt this was going to be bad, though she could not even estimate how badly...


	9. Shadows Arise

****

Shadows Arise

Somehow the air grew stale that day, clouds covering the Coliseum like an empty vortex of endless dark skies. She wandered the halls once more, wearing a dark blue, sleeveless dress, a collar-high and flowing past her feet, but with an opening for her wings to slip past. This dress was specially made for her by a request she had made, somehow reminding her of the life she once had, but was never allowed to wear it. The job of fighting was much too important to wear such fancy things...

But she wasn't fighting, now was she?

Nevaeh went to the stands with her black hat adorned to her head, walking to the main entrance above the stadium floor. She stood there for a matter of moments, gazing up to the sky that had now turned a dark purple in the afternoon sun. Strangest to her, not even when they blotted out the sky was it this dark for her. She had never seen such a sight, and was surprised nature did this on it's own. But her mind came back when she heard footsteps behind her, turning to find the man named Cloud and the woman named Aerith approach her.

"You came just in time," Nevaeh stated, looking back to the arena.

"Yes, well, we figured this much because of the very person we convinced to fight," Aerith replied.

She looked back, confused by what they said. "What? Are you saying you hired someone to fight?"

"Not entirely _hired_, because he came on his own free will," Cloud said, soon smirking. "Do you really think the sky changed on it's own?"

"I do not understand," she confessed. "Are you saying you darkened the sky, all for this one fighter to battle the man you only _believe_ is your son?"

"Somehow we just know it is him, if he is the only one here to consist, besides yourself, of a wing. Anyways, after we told him you were here, we couldn't stop him from battling even if we wanted too," Aerith spoke, almost drearily.

"Why is my being important?" she questioned, but they did not answer, only continued on to sit in the stands. She stood there for a minute, thinking, until she looked back to the widespread area, walking across to where she always sat; farthest away from Hades but not as much as to draw attention.

As she watched, waiting for the match to commence, a breath of wind caught up, a sharp, sort of electric sounding ring echoing through this place, Hades appearing in his chain through a puff of smoke. He almost grinned as he noticed how dark it was, taking pride in the fact that he had selected this fight to take place. He noticed the two unusual people sitting in the far entrance, but paid no mind and looked down to the blank arena at the moment. 

"What a day! Good thing I made it a special match, or else I wouldn't be able to enjoy this great of a day!" Hades stated, grinning and putting his hands behind his head.

She looked back to him, narrowing her eyes. "Special match? What are you getting at?"

"You'll see," he said, yawning. "It's about time you learned a bit about fighting."

With this, he snapped his fingers, the guards letting Strife go and walk into the arena. He carried the gunblade again, but did not bother to bring his cloak with him. Nevaeh could see Aerith stand up slightly, recognizing her boy, but being held back by her husband until the match was over. When the area had finally grown still, the challenger enter, her eyes going wide with question when she saw him.

He wore all black, a trench coat with a ragged end giving the affect that this man was dangerous. What shocked her was not entirely the long silver hair or the pale green eyes, but the fact when he whipped his arm to the side a large, black feathered wing released from his back, reaching to his side to grab the sword there. The shield was raised and the battle was to begin, the man grinning menacingly.

Strife prepared to fight, gritting his teeth as a bead of sweat ran down his forehead, nervous in a way. The man laughed at this, standing upright once more and staking the sword into the stone arena, crossing his arms.

"And this is what I am to fight against? What am I saying, you are Cloud's son after all."

"What? I don't understand," he said.

"You wouldn't, because you don't remember. Though of course, that's why I'm here. You're parents have been looking for you and I've made a deal. If I give a show, then you get your freedom, and I'll be in to get my own daughter back."

"Your...daughter?" he questioned, beginning to think and loosing his concentration.

"Yes," he replied. "Sorry to do this, kid, but I got my own goal. I hope you understand." He took the sword from the ground, preparing to fight once more. Strife did the same, preparing for the attack that would come.

In a second he lingered over, swiping over to a tremendous length and managing to, surprisingly, it him, sending him flying across the arena. He got back up on his feet, blocking the next swing that came at him and quickly countered, cutting the man on the arm. The man stood there for a moment, grabbing his arm and looking to his hand to find blood on the leather glove, shrugging.

"Not so bad after all," he said, frowning as he brought his hand to his forehead. "But get out of my way!"

As Strife shouted for another attack, the challenger suddenly lifted his hand in the air and sending a rage of fire shooting from the ground and upon Strife. Nevaeh covered her mouth in worry that he might have been burnt to a crisp, but Strife fell back out of it, only steaming with the flames that had been around him. The man came up to him, grinning as he put the sword back to his side.

"It seems you have been defeated, son of Cloud," he stated. "Do you admit your loss?"

"Not quite," he said, slowly reaching for his left hand, taking off the glove around it. Shocked, the man stood back, a disfigured, pitch-black morphed hand coming to Strife's side when he stood.

It was as if inside-out, the skin so mutated it looked as though it was the muscle from within with the veins pulsing through it. Bronze claws just added to the affect as he smirked, tossing the gunblade to the side and preparing to run forward. As he did, so quickly not even the man could see him, slashing through him. When he remained, the man fell to a knee, grabbing his stomach from where it had been sliced. Strife only turned back in question when he laughed, standing up and twisting back around. Strife stumbled back as the man's skin sealed up like normal, and with no medical intervention it was horrifying.

"That's something you should always remember, and that is that darkness is just another form to me." The man's image faded, eclipsed in a waving form of vapor as he said something more before his last attack hit. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'll be needing to finish this now. _Sin Harvest_!"

With it, a powerful force hit him, feeling his energy leaving him and knowing his loss. Once more, as he laid there helpless, as the man walking over, shrugging. Strife slowly nodded his head, signifying that he gave up. The man looked up, waving over to the others in the stands.

"At least your boy has some sense!" he shouted as he laughed, looking back. "Alright, your time has been served. Get up." He held out a hand, helping him up. "You are a worthy opponent, kid, so I'll keep you alive for another day."

"Yeah, thanks," he said half-heartedly, the man walking forward to approach Hades.

"I have done my fight, now hand her over and grant this kid his freedom."

Hades smirked, "No I think not." He got up, surprisingly walking into the dim sunlight and Nevaeh standing as he did. He walked over, waving down below to the stadium floor. "It's about time you learn the fundamentals of fighting, Nevaeh."

"What are you going to do?" she questioned.

"Oh nothing much...Anyway, first rule, in a match never take mercy on your enemy. Never. Secondly, if all things fail, cheat. Lastly, for the most important part of this game." He grinned widely, holding out his hand and forming a solid sword from his hand. This seemed all so familiar, knowing that something had been wrong from the start of all this, and she finally realized the true meaning when it became too late. "In every battle there is an end, and it only ends when it comes time for..." He leaned back, throwing the sword as threatening speeds through the shield and into the arena, where it cut the man across his face, but echoed in a sickening crush as it splintered in Strife's chest, falling back. "Sudden death!"

Nevaeh stood there, her heart shattering into a billion pieces when she witnessed this, and a soul wrenching cry coming from Aerith as a quiet yet angry silence filled the Coliseum that day, never to be forgotten...

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A/N Shocking? That's a duh, but don't worry, it is not the end! Please review and stay tuned!


	10. Final Victory

****

Final Victory

A memory suddenly came snapping back into her head, reaching out a hand in knowing what it meant. A word, a name, stood at the tip of her tongue, a fleeting dream that had once been faded coming to her. She ran forward, tears still lining in her eyes, as she stumbled to get to the arena floor. But something from behind reached for her, wrapping around her throat and ankles and holding her back as she continued to reach out a hand, another trying to get the black essence off from around her neck.

In her blurred vision, she saw the man suddenly disappear, the essence being cut away and allowing her run to the one wounded. Behind her, in what she had not noticed, the man glared, the light left in the sky reflecting off the blade he held in front of him. Hade shouted him a rage, his hair turning a blazing red.

"_No_! What have you done! Now she'll remember everything!" he shouted.

"Of course she'll remember," he answered, grinning that same small smirk that appeared so menacing. "And on top of that, you'll suffer a much worse fate than what I would've granted if you had obeyed me." The man side-stepped, waving a hand to him. "Though, I leave this first part up to the father of the kid you just murdered."

An enraged being came flying through just as he said that, reaching behind his back to grab the Buster Sword and slice it right into Hades. It somehow didn't hit him, but it did send a shockwave that pulsated him back into his chair and slamming into a wall. Cloud stood back on his own two feet, his face expressionless but his eyes filled with anger, as electric bolts shocked throughout him.

The man brought the blade that had been over his shoulder back into ready position, narrowing his eyes. Cloud nodded his head as Hades came to his feet again, saying, "For honor."

"For final victory," the man followed up, shouting in anger as he charged at Hades still shock being, Cloud coming up to the side in doing the same.

Nevaeh came barely to his side before falling to her knees in agony, seeing the pool of blood now soaking past his shirt and collecting on the stone ground. She could see the pain he suffered in his thin gazing eyes, grabbing the blade but unable to pull it out. Instead she did it for him, putting her hands on the side of his face to bring it back facing her. As tears rolled down her face, she surprisingly heard a chocked laugh coming from him, a smile forming on his face.

"Ow, that hurt, Nevaeh!" he said, her eyes becoming wide when she heard the tone of his voice. It sounded almost as if...he'd known her for all this time, for the time she could not remember, and yet before he acted as if he had never met her in his life. He only smiled, continuing. "I remember you now. My best friend Nevaeh from my time in the academy of SOLDIER. How did I ever forget that silver hair of yours and those beautiful green eyes...? The dance and then...darkness...that must've done it. What am I saying? Do you even remember me?"

As she stared blankly, down into those brilliant blue eyes, her heart seemed to freeze, that word now coming to her, along with the rest of her memories. Those days at the academy, spending time with her one and only friend; the day she had come back to find the main jock's nose was broken, learning it was he who had done it; that night when he had asked her to the school dance; and the first day she had ever realized he was like her, with a wing...

"_Lance..._" she whispered, him keeping a smile as he winced in pain.

"Hey," he replied. "Long time no see, huh?"

She laughed slightly in spite of her sadness. "Yeah. Nice to remember a friendly face."

He reached up and grabbed the wound in his chest, shutting his eyes as he gasped for breath through the gaps of his gritted teeth. Nevaeh became excruciatingly nervous, her hands beginning to shake in worry. She put her hands to her head, not coming with any solutions to this.

"Lance, I can't do anything for you. I don't have the power to heal. Can't you just use that healing technique again?" she asked.

"Sorry, but all the energy I had is gone. Even if I was to use a healing technique, it would kill me even quicker and before I could finish the spell, so..." he replied.

"No...No, you can't die! You can't!" she exclaimed, her throat tightening. "Please...Don't die, Lance...You mean so much to me...I ask of you, _please_, don't go..."

He tried smiling to make her feel better, but it was no use. He could not. Instead, he only reached up a red hand, putting it to the side of her face. "I had hoped that I could stay...but it seems...my time's up..." As he witnessed her shut those mako-green eyes, a small, clear tear coming off her eye, he could no longer sit back and watch as his life slipped by his fingers. If he was going to die, he was going to go out with a shock, maybe somehow setting his own troubles to rest. Lance, in his last effort, put his hand on the back of her head, leaning his head up to reach her forehead on his. Her eyes, in this sudden surprise, widened as he continued in a whisper. His mouth moved, but it was as if, to another that approach, nothing came out at all. That he was telling her, and her alone, what he had been meaning to say. But as the lady in white came behind and able to hear, she heard the whisper back of Nevaeh.

"_And it is what shall always keep that light in my eyes for you..._"

The woman in white took her shoulder, making her stand slowly but never leaving the sight of their glances. Nevaeh didn't need to turn and look to see who it was, for she already knew by the sound of the woman's voice as she spoke.

"Nevaeh, we should leave..." she said.

"But want to stay with him. Please, mother, let me stay!" Nevaeh proclaimed, reaching out a hand to Lance who did the same, soon crowded by the medics and his mother than came to his air.

"Nevaeh," her mother said sternly, "we cannot. As much as I would let you, we must flee. This world is unstable without the guidance of the Heartless, and with Hades weakening, it is only a matter of time before it reforms and sends it back from whence we originally came when the Heartless arrived. I am sorry, my daughter, but our world no longer exists, and if we stayed..."

"B-but what about them?! They were on the world as well!" she stated, being pulled along gently.

"Yes, but they have already made plans to leave. They have a ship waiting for them, as we do ourselves," she answered. "Now come, hurry!"

Nevaeh looked back again as the medics picked him up on a stretcher, about to carry him off. His eyes were falling back, his consciousness going dim, and as she was about to say the most crucial thing she ever said, she could only hope she heard him. She was released from her mothers grip, standing out a few feet as she screamed the last words he would ever hear.

"I love you! Do you hear me, Lance Strife?! I always have, and I always will!"

With this, the man looked down, catching this moment as his ally continued to torture the creature with a name. He just stared, confused for a moment as his only child fell to her knees, beginning to cry as his wife kneeled down, hugging her for comfort. His blood boiled as he remember this from so long ago, back when he was only there to realize his life finally meant something, back when his very soon reason of being was taken away. Well, now he had two, and he would not see either be hurt. This man, known as Sephiroth, clenched his fists with the masamune still in hand, looking out to the arena floor.

"Daughter," he spoke, his voice echoing and coming to her attention. She looked up to him, seeing his one free hand held out and clenched, his thumb outstretched and parallel to the ground. Nevaeh knew exactly what this meant for in a life of training to fight, she had always known what it meant. She raised her hand in the same way, narrowing her eyes in anger as she twisted it upright, her father grinning in amusement as he turned back. Sephiroth, going over to where Cloud had Hades in a headlock and extinguishing his hair with a pail of water the maids had brought him, only smirked, beginning to laugh. "Seems you've been outsmarted once more, have you not? Pitiful work in guarding your 'little gladiator'. But what can we expect from you, of all things. Anyway, be expecting to get what you deserve." He flipped the masamune in his hands, bring the handle side down onto his head, setting him unconscious and fall to the floor as Cloud let him go.

He kneeled down, reaching into his pocket and grabbing a small computer chip of some sort, setting it into the back of Hades' head and standing up as it sunk in.

"What was that?" Cloud asked.

"I ran across and annoying little robot on the way over, and, oddly enough before my wife gave my a computer chip extra from the ship, so decided to download the personality trait into it. Let's just say he'll be walking up with just another little voice nagging inside of his head."

Cloud smirked, chuckling. "You still got that bit of evil in you don't you?"

"Of course," he answered, turning away and beginning to walk.

"Hey Sephiroth," Cloud suddenly said, shrugging. "Thanks."

"Did what I could," he spoke. "But do you really think I would've helped you out if my child hadn't been here? HA! Whatever, you just get off this planet before it reforms. If anything, I'm going to be the one to destroy you before some planet does." With it, he disappeared around the corner, Cloud spreading his wing and flying off to where he was to go, the two families never likely to see each other again....

***

A light, illuminating glow fell from the skies, a dark, dotted area of space reaching to where it stopped at the gates, but it went on much farther than that. The snow collected at the base of her feet, even on the steps of which she sat on. Wearing a wool gray coat, her hair was back once again to the length it had been, maybe a little bit longer to her shoulders. She rubbed her hands together to keep warm, getting impatient as to why she was even out here. It had been her parents idea; why, she did not know, but they said they had a surprise for her. Some surprised, making her stand out here in the freeze cold. At least this town was deserted, or else everyone would be staring at her like back home. But then again, her original home was destroyed, so what was the point it bringing it up. This town, also known as Traverse Town, served for many refugees from the Heartless sweeps from a long time ago as a home, but ever since then, they had slowly weeded themselves out, making there way for knew and better places. The only thing that made them different was that her family hadn't found a sufficient home yet.

But it didn't matter. So long as she had a place to live, she was happy, and now that she was with her family she was even happier. The only thing missing was the big gap in her heart left behind at the Coliseum. The light which she had promised never did go out in her eyes, not even after the two months they had been staying there. But it seemed to dwindle every so often in the cold, miserable state she was in.

Soon enough she just couldn't take it anymore. After one last wind gust she had had enough. Nevaeh stood up, tightening her jacket to her. She turned away from the gates, looking back one last time before she began to climb the steps. As she reached the last step, hoping before that something would stop her, she sighed, shaking her head. It was a stupid notion anyway, to think he was ever coming back...

And then...she heard a humming. Surprisingly enough it seemed close, even when she didn't think someone was around. She twisted around, looking for who it might be. Though there was no one in sight, it still continued, Nevaeh beginning to think it was all in her head. But as she heard cough, she could determine where it was coming from, finally looking up. Her eyes widened, her throat tightening and her eyes swelling with disbelief when she saw who it was, sitting aloft on the roof and looking down on her.

"I was wondering when you were going to look up," Lance smiled, hopping and gliding quickly to the ground, folding his wing behind his trench coat.

He came over to her slowly, trying not to alarm her by taking any sudden moves. Instead, Lance put his hand on her shoulders, Nevaeh not flinching at all, but shocked that he was actually real. She smiled to this, reaching forward too and, in what it had seemed forever since the first time she'd truly known him, hugged him. He put an arm around her shoulder, a hand on her head as he hugged her back. They did not say anything, but only stood in that moment as the world was in a silence, the snow continuing to fall lightly on the town.

In a back ally, four people stood, watching as this reunion took place. Two of them just stared at the cute sight of their kids, the other two just standing back until their business was done here.

"Aw, isn't it that sweet!" Aerith proclaimed, gazing on to them as well as Kerah.

"Kinda funny if you ask me," Cloud stated, smirking and crossing his arms. "Never would expected something like this, but it's weird how life throws you a curveball."

"Or a nutcase, like you're head," Sephiroth sneered, beginning to laugh as his wife looked back with a irritated smile. "Yeah, yeah, I know. Stop making fun of people. Alright."

"Especially now that he will be Nevaeh's father-in-law," Kerah said, knowing by this he'd get annoyed.

"Don't remind me..." he replied in a mumble.

"Just for their sake, let's call it even," Cloud concluded, holding out a hand for him to sake.

"Sure," Sephiroth answered, shaking his hand. As he pulled it away, he smirked again. "But this still doesn't mean I couldn't kick your sorry-"

"Sephiroth!" Kerah exclaimed, cutting him short.

"Right...No swearing either..."

Cloud growled. "Do I see this as a challenge?"

"Yeah," he stated angrily back, putting up his fists.

"Alright, that's it! Bring it on!" Cloud shouted, jumping forward and putting his hands around Sephiroth's neck. He punched back, sending him out of the ally and storming after.

Aerith shook her head, sighing. "I swear, you couldn't mistake them for children!"

"Yes, well, what do expect from them?"

"Good point..."

Lance and Nevaeh broke from where they were standing, looking to their father's as they came tumbling out, Cloud landing another punch on Sephiroth's face. As he kicked up, he sent Cloud back again, standing up and turning to them with a reassuring grin.

"Don't worry, daughter. You just go back as you were," he said, and soon after a fist cracking him in the jaw and Cloud racing after him.

They both began to laugh, Lance shaking his head in pity. "They'll never learn, will they?"

"Nope," she replied. She looked back up to him, smiling. "But we did, right?"

He nodded his head. "Yep, and it's the only thing that was needed to be learned." He put his hands on the side of her face, just smiling for a moment before he slowly leaned his head of, not quite sure if it was something she'd agree with. But she just smiled back too, shutting her eyes when finally she received her very first kiss...

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And there you have it...THE VERY LAST CHAPTER! YEA! I finished my first sequel to ANY fanfiction! (not to mention you went through 44 pages in twelve font!) Well, hoped you liked it, and please review and tell me what you think!


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